Tuesday, November 21, 2006

In The Shadows, Gone Before You Turn

-written over the duration of this song-
-it may seem incongruous, but either somehow it fits, or the damned thing was just playing-

It’s this awful angst like feeling that keeps me breathing in sharp, shallow breaths, all the muscles down my back tense not to mention my shoulders, the kind that makes you want to rip out of your own skin chest first or fall into the Abyss.

It’s everything. It’s work and not understanding as much as you want to, realizing you may just be in over y our head, wanting to be with people you want to be with but can’t, folks calling dibs on the time you want to kick back and lie in a drunken stupor to forget this year, this general dissatisfaction that you can not bear to accept causing this unbearable frustration that literally bends your back in two, the desire to run away and disappear and not have anything at all, a sure shot way to avoid any demands on you from anyone other than yourself, knowing what you demand from yourself is enough angst….

Its this feeling that manifests itself in the most horrible ways in your dreams or when you are boombed, mentally flagellating yourself, self deprecation and loathing being understatements.

And the worst part of it all is I don’t know what is causing it. Its like this itch but you don’t know where, like a word on the tip of your tongue, except scalding and you can’t find it…its this niggling need to fix something, you don’t know what so you make attempts at being constructive cleaning the house or tidying up hoping that while those fall into piece, so will the unknowns in your own head. You can light up a cigarette and watch the smoke curl and get lost in it, in yourself trying to find the source of this feeling, finding you can read people so very easily, everyone except within, knowing you cant bear to be alone, your own thoughts consuming you, a cancerous kind you don’t even know about…its that itch that makes itself obvious when alone and so you pick up the guitar, ineffectually play something upbeat only to get lost in your head once again, find forgetfulness by any means available just to have the thoughts manifest in the shadows, gone as you turn your head.

I don’t know what it is. But I don’t like it.


basho said...

I don't like it either.

But there it is, that fucking itch.

hedonistic hobo said...

With you I suspect the itch is called the weekend. The year isn't so bad, I don't know why you insist on condemning it. Sure an age-old cherished relationship ended, and I understand what that experience put you through but things have certainly improved. Your moods are worrying.

Zaphod said...

Nah, I always get moody when I think I wasted time