i don’t understand what the days have to do with me

i spend the time i enjoy writing, on drugs, or writing while on drugs

in an attempt to rid myself of the day

and the day of myself

i don’t understand what people want from me

i honestly feel like i have nothing to give to them

people want illusions – facial expressions, camera angles, lighting – when the truth is an unlit
     monotony, seen from one angle, and the angle is not of your choosing

or something

i don’t know…

things happen

and other things happen

or something

i don’t know…

you are there and i am here

refreshing twitter at an alarmingly high frequency

alone

in bed

at 5AM

for a moment i consider tweeting something

then don’t tweet anything

there is nothing i can tweet right now to alleviate my acute feelings of alienation, depression,
     confusion and despair

if for no other reason than the line before this one

all lines before that one

etc.