posted on June 28, 2002 @ 2:39 am
subject: je suis si desol�e, mon amour.
body: i'm going into hiding for the next few days. i plan to at least; i'm not sure exactly how long i'll actually last. something's really wrong, and i don't know what, and i don't know how long it's going to take to get out of where i am. it's my past, it's my present, it's things i neither know of nor understand, it's everything, and i don't think i should be around anyone other than my family. they've lived through the worst of me, so they know how to handle it somewhat. yes, i've been taking my medicine, and no, i haven't cut myself. i know something's wrong with you, too, and you acting weird just makes me feel worse. like not telling me bye a second ago, or not even giving me a hug last night. that was the proverbial last straw to compound to my...whatever the fuck is happening with me, so i'm in seclusion now. i want to have all the books i bought read by the time i move back to austin, anyway, so this is the perfect opportunity. saturday i'll even buy a million more. i'm really sorry, and just so you know, i'm crying really hard right now because i feel like a huge bitch. i'm just so sorry. i should have never let you subject yourself to this. i'm sorry. god, i could say it forever.
fin
this is the part of me that needs medication
this is the part of me that believes in heaven
....thinks outer space is all dead
....wishes it was with it
....'s trying to be funny
....loves my parents
....thinks that ants are cavemen
....thinks all humans are ants
....learns from sitcoms
....means nothing
and i do-o-o-on't know
where i could go away and you could wish that i had stayed or just
stayed gone
and I don't know
and I don't know at all
so, out of the context and into what you meant
and you know your reasons
you don't know who you are but you know who you wanna be
i-i-i doooon't know
so you go to the library to get yourself a book and you look and you look
but you didn't find anything to read
and i do-on't know at all
left all my kinder parts rusting and peeling
that guy was complaining as he looked at the ceiling
my nose isn't that big it looks nothing like me
we're all doctors trading sadness for numbness
grass looks much greener but it's green-painted cement
the mayor's machines are there cleaning the pavement
you can't make dirt clean so we'll just lemon-scent it
"medication," modest mouse
my favorite line is the last one: you can't fix my filth, so give me pills to make me feel like i'm okay.
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