Thethings

... looking at someone i love and wondering if i can break them mentally, physically, emotionally, and in any other way i can conjure. then, if i think i can't, figuring out what i need to do to become able

putting off the things that i need to do just so that they stress me out more as the deadline approaches

convincing myself that things are hopeless, wallowing in frustration for a day, and then regretting the day i wasted lying in bed.

abandoning academics

falling for every guy that makes just little enough sense that i think he'll teach me something.

clinging to people and projects that only minimally interest me in hopes that they'll buoy me against the rising tide of self loathing and helplessness.

not knowing how to initiate sex with the one i want it with and calling up a fuck buddy to fill the gap, knowing that just getting off doesn't make the feeling go away and that i really need him to fill me.

waking up from a nightmare and deciding that sleep isn't worth the annoyance, then walking around half dead from sleep deprivation for days.

blowing ashes off of pennies in the bottom of ashtrays.

upsetting people when i know how to avoid it.

liking pills too much and, despite knowing the dangers, letting myself slide deeper into the hole that i'm slowly digging with the lid from a jar of opiates

finding quiet satisfaction when people don't know how to interpret things i say, then regretting it when they get frustrated.

never remembering to restock on toilet paper until it's completely gone

crying when i'm mad or confused.

obsessing over boys that i don't want to become emotionally involved with, wondering if they want to be involved with me, then slowly steering myself into very complicated relationships just to see if i can.

..We do to ourselves. Waking up at four AM in the ICU, completely unsure as to why I'm there, if I was a little verbose and harsh with someone, and they beat my ass, or what. Smoking a cigarette and enjoying it SO FUCKING MUCH, TIA but then feeling like an ass when my father asks if I kicked the coffin nails yet. Looking at someone and thinking "I will lie to you, I will tear you down, but it will be so fun." Fucking all my friends, until I don't have any. Knowing I have the ability to write, to compose, damnit, and not having the cojones to hammer out my skills, to continue to drift in the untempered rapids of mediocrity. (Untempered rapids, howabout that shit?) Knowing that despite anything, if I was handed an eighty milligram OxyContin, I would not throw it away, nor sell it for profit, but have the coating off of that motherfucker and have it in my sinuses so fast my head would, obviously, spin. Sticking out my (full) lower lip and saying "Don't you trust me?" Doing everything ironically. Not going back to fucking school. Come on, Ether denizens. Post up. Or whatever the right words are for "Post" and "Man up."