King Midas in Reverse

Everything you touch turns to shit. 

  I  want to pack my comforter in the back seat of my car and drive down to the beach.   I wanna snuggle up there and go to sleep.   I’m afraid to close my eyes.  .   I never wanted this.    I don’t know how this happened.   Everybody thinks they have the answers to your problems. but no one does.   I don’t really feel much.  .  It’s just so dark here.   I can’t feel myself.   I can’t feel the blood coursing thru my veins.   I don’t feel pain.   I’m  afraid of the images behind the lids.    so I can’t sleep.  can’t focus.   can’t work.   can’t run my hamsters wheel.  can’t chase the cheese.                can’t resume the normal routine of mediocrity.  can’t go back to pretending anyone gives a shyt.   coz the truth is out there.  We’d like to believe that the world cares coz it’s the only thing that keeps us alive.   The only thing that allows us to wake up in the morning and continue  (obliviously) with all activities.   But it’s bullshit and deep down inside you know it.   I know it.    We all know it.   so why the effrontery?  why hold on to some semblance of a fairy tale?   what’s the point?   please don’t give me that crock a shyt “i’m here for you”, “i luv you”. “if you need a friend, call me”   oh and  the infamous “people care”  propaganda.   I can’t hear you. I’m deaf to it.    oh then there’s the “whatever hurt you, you can get thru it” .   how the fuck do you know something hurt me?   how do you know I wasn’t born this way?  


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