You know why no one takes people in pajammas seriously?
Go put a pair on. Yeaaaaa, I know right? That shit rocks your ass to sleep and you fucking like it. Do yours have some kind of lame ass cartoon character on them, with the squiggle eyes and football helmet? Or, were you inspired by Casanova and paid more than Wal Mart would allow for those you of piece of class you.

Ok, now...go do something. You don't want to huh? I understand, I can't move either. I've been here 80 years. My ass is a cloud, that could be all the fecal matter though.


\\

You could see it surely past the edge of the sunrise. It's like those times when you're walking along and you run into something, not because you saw anything in particular but you felt as if you needed a jolt going for that day. Except this time, after you've made your usual pardons to any passers by, you *do* see something.

It's just...sitting there. Asking for it, you even. Just you, yea.

So, you keep walking along and you go about your day. You can hear it now, at the store perusing the aisles for something classy for dinner that evening. Once again, no particular reason.

-- I wonder if it's possible to become autistic through computer usage amounts.

Scrambling along, perched in the trees the squirrels wait and chatter amongst themselves. Eyes peering from the leafy wilderness in the treetops, they hunger for knowledge of the moment. Like a lightning bolt, they live in seconds. Each passing into the air as quickly as it came. Worry and regret are monoliths beneath the waves to these noble spirits now.

"I'm tired of getting ripped off by guys like that."

It's a lingering smell by the time you get in the door, weaving in and out of your subconscious rapidly.

eh.

I feel like a child.

Sometimes, I get concerned I'm dragging everyone around me down.
That's funny, because I haven't had a soul call on me or visit in days
Sometimes, that turns into weeks.

I don't even know what I did wrong.

Sometimes, I wish I was back by myself on the streets. I was genuinely happy there and I kept that whole part of my life a large secret and only now do I let it come out.

I saw some fucked up things in that short week, I felt even more so. What was I, a middle class kid doing out there? Why did I move again? Who was I? Hell, who am I now?

I'd do it again, even knowing what I know. Same people even, they were pretty fun sometimes. That's how everything is for me, maybe even you. I can't think of anything I want in my life all the time, I just start hating things sometimes. Maybe it's a frustration, maybe it's me not being vocal enough, maybe it's something else.

Maybe, I never understand because the only person that talks to me is me. I've tried. I honestly have. I just wasn't meant for this. I try and do things as I've learned and understood them to be and I end up jobless, friendless, and sometimes homeless.

Sometimes, I wonder how I can be one of the most rage filled, grudge holding people I know and feel normal in comparison to just almost everyone I know.

I have nothing but love...hah, alright, well...I'd like to be that way someday

Dancing lets me feel free, so I do it in the shower.
Music lets me live, so I play when I'm alone.
Writing saves me, so I just do it now. I used to want opinions, now I can't get any even if I so desired.

I want to leave soon. I have no interest in a singular place anymore. Why should I?
I used to think if I were dead, no one would care. Now...it's been proven.
I could cancel my phone tomorrow, I should. It's 40 a month that needs to be in the electric...or the internet.

Someday, my life long love will fade away from you too oh great invention. Have you ever wondered...like, stop and wonder tomorrow...just don't go to work, you hate that anyway.

Just sit around, listen to music you enjoy (may I suggest shuffle? Learn something new) and just wonder. Wonder about yourself, your life, your love. Everything.

Are you where you'd like to be?
I'm close...all that stops me is friendship. I have two friends, I could say with honesty, left. They've been there forever and making new friends is harder than you'd think.

I like to use these writing to talk about myself, or sort things out. Some people have said, in general, I'm a selfish man. I think that's funny...I don't do anything for myself. Especially these days.

I used to want to die, I used to want to live. I'm just not sure either way anymore. I feel like a delicate husk, a ghostly presence, some afterimage of a flash of light.

I see flaws daily in the world and I am but one man. Supermen could change things. I am no superman. I want to be.

Cheer up! You're not dead yet!
Hell, you don't have to die.
You never do.

I certainly don't intend on it.