~Mourning Thoughts

Another morning, another cup of coffee.

My brain is tired. That has always troubled me... the fact that I can't turn off my brain. As close as I can get is being drunk, but even that doesn't work sufficiently. All drinking does is slow the thoughts down a little... quiets them.

I once tried to capture what my head sounded like. I had a 4 track recorder. I overdubbed until I had enough tracks to get close. There are always voices, and noises, and music, on the inside of my head, along with the noises that come from the outside. Sometimes it's louder than others, the inside stuff. Sometimes I can't tell if it's coming from inside or from the outside. Sometimes it keeps me up, because it's too loud. Sometimes it keeps me up because it's too scary.

I feel like I'm dying. I feel like I'm killing myself. I'm not sure that "integration" is supposed to feel this way. I'm not sure that there's supposed to be a residual mess to clean up. My mother emasculated me. My father could only laugh at tears. They both spoke with violence as their native language. They both walked on me. And so the game called "life" began. I'm tired of playing the game. I just don't know how to stay alive without doing so.

Another day, another cup of coffee, another beer for breakfast.