and what is real?

i am diluted, polluted, convoluted... a pale ghost of the person i once was, a former self...

and even thirteen years ago i was lost in self pity, imitating the person i used to be, all on credit, on borrowed time...

and if you looked at me but by average human standards, you were fooled into believing i was something more, but we each live by our own individual standards and one at fifty percent is still one at fifty percent...

i still sit on my mountain most of the time, meditating and reminiscing and appearing above it all, but feeling beneath it all...

the few who come close sense to depths, the vacuum that can suck the energy out of everything... so naturally i remain alone, because only the masochists truly want to get close...

i have become so negative, so cynical, so barren...

damn me, i agree...

i might have tried enough, i might have made it out of the hole that pretends to be a mountain so well that everyone sees it as a mountain, but the fool i was let you decide what to do as i rolled toward the falls...

the loop loops...

it's your fault it's my fault it's no one's fault it's everyone's fault it's the san andreas fault...

and now, more than ever, i want to do it for someone else... someone who will save me because i choose to waste away until someone will play that game and live that illusion with me... yeah, because i don't want to do it by myself...

moronic choice, a waste...

ok...

so as tired as i was, and i am, i dragged this body down to the gym and it's nearly 1am now, more than an hour on the elliptical machine and i forgot water and cellphone and oh well... the body survived...

so softball is not enough exercise for me...

blah blah blah blah blah...

what good are all the drafts,m blueprints, and connect the dot secrets if they lead to the sad sad singer of the lonely songs you long since left behind you, or someone did... harry?...

i'm just wild about harry...

anger and self-pity, what a volatile combination of nuclear waste...

and the beatles sing i'm so tired... ... ... ...

there's a somebody i'm longing to see...

thanks, linda...

somewhere in the night the secret's told
children don't believe in growing old
when does loneliness begin?
when childhood ends

somewhere in the night the answer's told
children don't understand bought and sold
when does emptiness begin
when childhood ends

but there are children who are greedy
there are children who stay hungry
there are children who are needy
there are children who are empty
and i don't know if it is the way they're born
or if it something they are formed into
i don't know if we have a choice who we are
but i know we choose what we do
we choose what we do

and knowing is not enough

so do i mirror my surroundings or blend into my perceptions.. a week of listening to tom hanson, then bleeding into nick drake, now eating hemp cereal and hoping my right kidney stops hurting... less sleep, the more the kidneys complain and send the blood pressure up... i wonder if it is that softball sized cyst growing in the center... and the insurance company doesn't want to pay for the sonogram and mri and the doctors just keep wanting to send me to other doctors to order more tests... so i stopped going to the doctors... they just want to milk me/us for more money...

everybody's doing it...

whatever happened to baby me?