Monday, August 08, 2005

The Zombie Part 1

It’s an overload, it keeps me awake, keeps me running; or at least so it looks to me. I need the stimulant, it’s an addiction, the worst kind. I need it everywhere and all the time and I need it acting on the entire entity that my body is.

For almost a year now I can't look at a computer screen without ANY kind of musical stimulant pumping half of my brain, cause only one of my headphones work. And that pretty much summarizes it; one half is excited and distracted and the other is kept for working, thinking, inventing, solving and pretend-listening to others around me. I get bored if half my brain isn’t drowned in music, I get tired, I get cranky; like a real fukin junky. Can I really concentrate that way? I have come to convince myself so, and I even believe it. It might also just be helping me to isolate, cut the uncontrollable and extremely boring stimulation from the outside world.

Isolate and boring outside world, another sign of my addiction. When did the world become boring?? All I know that at some point my brain turned off to all the bulshit that people around to me are saying. That's not me, I don't want to be like this; but they AIN'T stimulating me. I need a hit and a big fukin one.

I need it, but do I ever get it? Seems like forever since I got one, but I think it was yesterday night.

Most of the time I am brain dead from tiredness but I keep on functioning. Tickle after tickle I make myself excited , shoot some adrenaline in brain, hook up half the sound, burn cigarettes and most importantly say retarded shot. Because no one ever does so, and even when they do their scared. I want to hit the ice like an breaker, I want to get it out of people, that drug that keeps me running; I feed off other people like a vampire, I know everyone has it in them and they want it out but it can be so much funnier to be bored. Cause you’re used to be bored, your told it the in thing to, its easy and its fun and your skin will look good and you’ll be in shape.

You can dream, be an artist, be a fuck up, but just dream it, cause if you do it, your skin gets fucked up, you loose weight and that chick wont want to fuck you ("Marlin Manson" in Bowling For Columbine). That chick, its all about chicks, all the time. Like Marilyn Monroe, she's stimulating, she's a fukin mystery, she managed to fool you all and suck you in like little ants, what da fuck, I am a brain-dead zombie trying to get little boys to say some retarded shit, she managed to get everyone's attention and reaction most importantly. Was she hooked up to that shit like I am??? Probably, but to a much higher level, she was REALLY addicted.

I want to see new things all the time, and I feel like I need it. Once I wanted to see EVEN MORE new things, and I SAW MUCH MORE, but I didn’t really need it. It’s so hard to see something new now, now that I have grown into this bitch of an addiction, yet I crave new-ness even more.

I always thought I was a full-encapsulated-independent identity. Now , I am really becoming one though, before it was just a fukin joke, I couldn’t really do it alone, cause I was using the others around me to shoot up and refuel. Now I am looking for my hits alone, in writing this for example. Maybe I'll eventually become a homeless bum, fucked up from years of mis-using, but the parallel to a home-less bum in my addiction would be a SUV driving sub-urbanite. So many people do this its just scares the shit out of me. Yet I realized most of my dreams wont get realized, maybe I’ll end up somewhere in a two story house. For sure it will be like an opium den, maybe it will be cool actually... Fuck it , who cares that I ll be alone, seems like that the thing to do, isolate in the suburbs and build my own addiction-den crack house. I can walk around with one headphone on my head, naked, write, eat like a pig. No , doesn’t sound stimulating enough, Ill need other people. But once again, I am back to the beginning, other people aren’t giving me the hit they used to. I have to do it on my own now.

And so I am the zombie within the zombies.

I wish I could crash a bit now but I gotta make money MORE MORE AND MORE MONEY. I think I’ll be able to get a much bigger hit once I have money, maybe its gonna give me that freedom to be a fuck-up for a few days, weeks. The other day my friend tells me he wants to take advantage of these supposedly golden years and travel for a few months, Asia, Europe. He needs the hit too I guess, but I've lost it, I am beyond this point, I can read through this bullshit now, I know it’s not gonna give the hit really, nothing will and nothing does anymore.

I hate fakness, I can’t stand it.

I like being tired, I like being sad, I like missing people, it makes me feel alive. That’s a real fukin hit.

I like pushing myself, everything all the time, still I never really do anything.

this shit really sucks, I am ashamed of myself


"Breathe, breathe in the air, don't be afraid to care
Leave, but don't leave me...."

Pink Floyd "Speak to me/Breathe" on Dark Side of the Moon

Comments:
Aveces la necesidad de seguir necesitando se vuelve insoportable
 
Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link



<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?