Much Nothing About Ado

It's the writer in me to stare at the blank screen and just hope something shows up. It's not here tonight, not with me. So what better thing to write about then saying you have nothing to write about.

I'm hurting. I ended my 16 month sobriety a couple weeks ago. I don't know what life is doing to me and I'm never sure which "me" will show up. The bubbly, joking guy in all black who looks way too goth to be smiling or the head phones on, glasses on, don't fucking talk to me asshole who wanders the halls of North Lake.

My lack of sleep, very connected to this twitching in my leg and in my stomach. Consider it restless leg syndrome of the soul. I feel overwhelmed, overworked, underpaid, underfucked.

I hate my body. I want to work out more but school and work just eat that time right up. I want to diet but my blood sugar collapses turning me useless and mean. I don't want to make excuses, I want to be successful and fight through the struggles.

I've ushered in a new life where my life is my own. It's scary. I work, I write, I play. I'm no longer following or waiting for others around me to form who I should be that day. I used to do that so I could guarantee someone would love me that day. Hide away my pains and my insecurities so this superman in black could rise up and destroy you all when you weren't looking. He's not home anymore.

I've abandoned my god emblem; Marilyn Manson. Although I never viewed him as a god, he was as close to a godlike figure I could have. I preached and practiced his words, lived by what I thought was his wisdom, used his hymnals in my places of worhip and gave all my money to his cause. I knew it would end one day, it had to. I still love Manson in some way, his music will always be the best to me and without his words I'd be dead.

Now it's just me and my head, it's empty; rattles around a lot. I'm in need of an influence, something greater to possess me and lead me somewhere greater. I was hoping that would be me and in the end it will be, I just need some help now. I don't want to drink, I don't want anti-depressants. I don't want to get more tats that way I'm not tempted to cut that particular flesh anymore.

I don't want to die, I'm just afraid I'm not living. I love the important people in my life, they deserve better than me. I use video games, hockey, stand-up comedy, cartoons and music to distract me from my reality. Just need to find a way out from underneath the covers that only thinly shield me from the world.

Maybe I'll invent the next hip thing, they'll turn me into an infomercial and I'll never have to work again. I'll come up with a garden hose that you shove up your ass that blows false self-esteem and energy up inside you. It will work for 3 weeks and give you the boost you need until one day you use the hose too much and you finally spew shit from your mouth literally. Just like many do every hour of every day, spew shit from their mouth. I'll then write a book about it and tell you how you can be successful like me and invent some shit spewing device of your own. You'll give me your money, sit on your ass and let yourself waste away barely opening page two of my book. Who am I to judge, I'm afraid this will happen to me too.

"I've tried to kill you, the headaches getting worse, wanna poison you with led, bring a 45 you said, get out of my head" - Combichrist