The Touch of a Leaf The Touch of a Leaf, a sci-fi fiction - FictionPress.com

The Touch of a Leaf The Touch of a Leaf, a sci-fi fiction - FictionPress.com

mama this surely is a dream...

Shit's so fuckin sad and shitty in my life i wish it would just fall off the tracks and at least die. It's too pitiful to even embrace its own death, this disgusting half-assexcuse of a life i call my direction, or vice-versa. fuck everyone. fuck everyone out there who's happy with themselves and feels like there's shit goin good in their lives. cuz u know what? it ain't forever nigger. soon enough ur ass is gonna be right where i'm sittin, and i might be just where u are, and whether that shit happens or doesn't isn't even up to us in the slightest. it's all fuckin bullshit and i'm so fuckin sick of this shit, god damn. i literally am so fuckin sick of this shit that it makes me nauseous. i don't even feel like moving sometimes, i just wanna lie there and die out of pure disgust of this filth of a fucking shitstained fuckin planet.


someone fuckin kill me and end this shit. i'm so fuckin sick of every fuckin face i fucklin see. every fuckin eye i look into, i just wanna spit at you and choke the life out of you, mother fuckers. and i know you feel the same as me sometimes. i ain't even nothin special. even wallowin in my deepest mire, i ain't nothin special. it's all fuckin bullshit. why the fuck am i here?

Bell Peppers MUST BE WASHED BEFORE CONSUMPTION

It's true... either that... or McDonalds is just BAAAAAAD for the body. I ate a double cheeseburger today and a bellpepper. And a hot fudge sundae and a spicy chicken sandwich from my work as well. Err... the bellpepper came from Safeway. Point is- it's come down to this-!

1)Wash vegetables. All vegetables/fruits/shit before eating. Not with soap and shit, but with water at least. I guess 'rinse' would be apropos...

2)If you HAVE to eat fast food- nyuggas!- eat chicken lol. Cuz that shit's either cooked right or cooked wrong. Aint no puttin secret ingredients in chicken.

Jesus, I feel so retarded. I always do. I'm so god damned depressed, lol, it almost makes me wanna laugh. Then I remember, Charles, you're in a public place!
Kinda funny, ya can't talk to yerself in public, but you can sure as hell fart and act innocent as hell... just goes to show, what's on the surface is never what's in the depths.

Life's repetitious as hell, man. Even spontaneity has become redundant.

I'll quote one of my really early poems:

With what purpose do I work these fields
Harvesting plants I will eat by myself
Where is the rich boyish dream
Where is the classic hand to hold me?
Let me tell you about pain and regret
Living life in a phantom form
No pain is greater than struggling to recall
A stranger's memories no longer my own
Who is that man who housed my soul
These past years as I slumbered?
What darkness, in my name, did he dare perform
To the people I once loved?
I awoke to madness, shattered mirrors,
And an empty, lightless house with a massacred family
My brothers, sisters, hearts destroyed
But where is my own body?
Where, please tell me, it cannot be
I'm left with bloodstained hands to live,
Alone?


By the rivers of babylon... where we sat down... and- 'lo, we wept-! when we remembered zion...

Off with his head!!

Man, I tell you what. I don't know what's gotten into me. I've been dex-free for like 5 days. Alright maybe four. Feels like months. I don't have any apprehensions though, anything holding me back. I feel so clairvoyant, and lucid... hard to explain to anyone who hasn't spent at least a week in a dissociative-binge (much less 3 years).

Been doing a lot of reading. Been reading a lot of my old writings, too... maybe I'm just trying to rediscover myself. Sounds sappy, I know. But sometimes the truth ain't always what you want it to be.

Well I can't really think right now. There's this muchacho to my right, acting like he's the only rooster in a pen of cocks. I can tell if I sit here any longer I'm gonna be finding any excuse to tear his fuckin face off.

frightened of this thing that i've become...

sobriety sucks!

well it's a double-edged sword i guess.

anyways, i really need a job. on monday i'm goin down to the foodstamp office and tellin em, if i don't get food stamps i'm probly gonna die...

i hope my parents are still ok with me movin down to benson and livin with em for the winter... it's too cold up here to be sleepin on the floor of an apt with no heat and poor insulation. even wrapped up in thermals and down blankets... *shiver*

i prayed a lot yesterday but... there's only so much our predatory God is gonna allow before s/he chooses you're just better off dead.

man am i down in the dumps. no money. no car. no food. no nothing... all i got is a place to eat and a book to read.

i don't give a shit what the fuck anyone says about rock bottom. this is it. thank god i have mike's place to sleep at. thank friggin god...though what god, i begin to- xD nah i ain't that bad. shit sucks though.
~~
to add to this experience, I must be honest.

One, I'm completely fuckin insane. Everyone is. Two, I've only ever done what I thought best. Now whether that coincides with humanity's best interest, which, itself, has strayed from the path of what's good for this planet~
I DGAF

So what?! So what if i ramble on in this fuckin blog and shit. So what if I keep living. Yeah, you've all felt these same sentiments, many times. We all do, unless we're blind shepherd-less goats.

I'm so fuckin spent, I can't even tell ya. I literally have no fuckin soul left to burn. I'm completely drained of every ounce of fuckin humanity that I somehow grasped in this torrential tidal storm that's called life.

Im in so much fuckin pain, it fuckin kills me every day... I don't care about starvin children in Uganda, or some Bolivian smack dealers or whatever misery defines itself as in society's eyes. I have known the true extent of starvation, of madness, of despond and despair... I have been given kingdoms and had them snatched from me, I've been given those same kingdoms, again, and burned them in my attempts to do what I thought was right. I've been given priceless lumps of obsidian gold, pure essence of which to sculpt with, and with it, i wrought nothing. blank is the canvas of this mad artist. unheard are the songs of this stupid poet.

man. shit fuckin blows.