When Alanis Morisette's "Mary Jane" and "Perfect" dominate the internal soundtrack to your day, something might be up.

When going through the motions of everyday tasks leave you lethargic and completely unfulfilled, something might be up.

When you haven't had a restful night of sleep in two weeks because you can't shut your eyes without nightmares dominating the black of your eyelids, something might be up.

I guess what I'm saying is something might be up.

I try to keep this shit to myself...I really do...but sometimes, shit happens and it gets a little overwhelming. The worst part is I'm not sure what is overwhelming me. I've been having mini-panic attacks every two hours or so, but I'm so used to them no one notices. I can pass it off as a heart palpitation or a weird feeling just like that. But the fact of the matter is, I'm terrified. I'm not sure exactly what I'm terrified of but I know it's there and it scares the living shit not only of my conscious mind, but of my subconscious too. I really don't care to know what it is that's bothering me. I just want it to stop. Last night I had a really terrible nightmare and I left a little girl in the nightmare to survive on her own.

It hurt to wake up. She was clinging to me...begging me to see the end of the nightmare through with her. But I couldn't. I had to wake up. It wasn't restful sleep and my body- as well as my mind- was terrified beyond belief. I don't know who this little girl was, but her face will stay with me forever as she clings tightly around my waist, pleading I don't leave her.

I still can't believe I left her to deal with that nightmare. She's probably trapped in my dream somewhere, suffering at the expense of my selfish nature.

I smoke a cigarette while she probably cried in terror.

How dare I.

I can't make sense of anything right now. I just need a few good hugs, a day off, and a night of good sleep.

Apparently that's too much to ask for.
Oh well.
I suppose I'll deal, as always.

Whispering behind people's backs is never an effective way to communicate.

Don't you get that?

The only effective way to communicate is to let the fear of disaster go and say what you need to say. Even if things can go completely wrong and end up in a chaotic, confusing mess it is better to be honest and upfront than it is to hope someone will ask the right questions or say the right words.

People aren't dependable creatures; we're all plagued with the same insecurities.

The same worries.

The same biological functions that make abandoning what's inside our heads and hearts absolutely terrifying.

I am so fed up with the lack of communication that I witness between people everyday. And I'm saddened by the round about ways we've come up with in order to make honesty a group effort as opposed to an individual one.

I'm sure this is making no sense, but it makes sense to me (in my head, of course) and that's why I'm writing it down.

Don't hold me responsible for whatever you take from reading this.

Empty Nest.

Two doors down
a child screams
searching
for the lactating nipple
of a worn and tired breast.

Tears and milk
dripping
from across a room
where an attachment is not being forged.

Silence is a luxury
lasting thirty seconds at a time
while the infant-
wandering mouth and all-
finds comfort in it's dry fingertips.

tequila swimmin' in your veins say yeahhh and write and some shit.

i've got words. i promise.

today is valentine's day, isn't it? my dad (as per usual) told me his ideas for what he wanted to do for my mom. my parents disgust me with how fucking cute they are sometimes. i mean, really. my mother's face just glowed when she showed me the flowers i had already seen. sometimes i think they're fifteen and hormonal.

anyway!

this heart thing i've got going on right now is getting a little ridiculous (and by a little i really mean a lot). i've got a handful of doctors all telling me a handful of conflicting things and not one of them is a cardiologist. i went to get a referral to a cardiologist but just getting the referral to get my heart monitor took two months.

i'm telling you, at the rate everything is going my heart is going to stop before anyone knows what the hell is going on.

which leads me to my next point...

wait.

no. nevermind. i won't go there just yet.

blegh. i was going to write and bitch about the usual business but i'm not really feeling up to it. in all honesty, my heart is hurting really bad and i've been sexiled without shoes so i'm pretty much just sitting and drinking and wasting time before i have to go to work in the morning. perhaps i'll go kill some zombies. i've found video games to be very...helpful...lately.

don't ask cos i don't want to tell.

yeah, so i give up on this writing thing. maybe i'll go work on my poem that's due in two days.

maybe i'll post it if i like it.

oh, decisions...