1 post tagged “today i ate words on a string”

I keep thinking that maybe if I post my work
on some website that isn't a myspace blog
or some other social blogging site,
maybe someone will notice me
and say
you know what? this girl's pretty neat. we should show other people and they should like it more than we do.
because it would feed my ego.
but, honestly, I'm worthless
and I can't write.
And that's why I put all my poetry in moleskin journals I bought at Border's
and on the Internet so that I can stalk people and tell them to read my poetry and tell me they love me and like my hair and the picture I have of my boobs as my default representation of self
that's when I decided I should get drunk.
And then I thought,
Oh, YOU SHOULD GET A JOB
(but it doesn't matter right now--
I only get these crazy ideas when I'm drunk or my mom's telling me how worthless this current state of existence is)
Today was the day that I woke up and everything was okay
and then it turned nine and I thought about getting a beer and being drunk before noon
and talking to the dog about how I need more conditioner
because I horde it but it costs too much
we took a nap the rest of the day
and mom woke me up screaming about staying up late
but you dont stay up late when you hate yourself
you go to bed and you sleep
and you wake up and you sleep
and you stay awake.
This nonsense circulates
and it keeps coming up because it courses through my veins and sometimes when I dream I think my heart transcribes these delusions to blood and I have delusions in my blood and my heart makes new delusions and I tell every boy I date that I love them because its in my blood, but I really don't, I just like the way it rolls off my tongue.
And my horoscope keeps telling me that I'm a fatalist,  and I drink too much water
and I don't eat cantelope because I'm not a carnivore.
In the back of the room, I hold my legs to my chest for an instant and scream,
I'm not dead, you motherfuckers
but no one hears me because I don't scream, in fact, I don't even put my legs on my chest, I lied,
but I think I had oral sex with a tube of lipstick last night at the bar and now I feel dirty
but i'm almost certain at least one person asked me to go home with them and I couldn't really argue because I walked outside and lost my balance and the sky turned purple and I realized I had drank too much vodka like water, but I really like it because it doesn't burn my nose, throat, or tongue unless I puke it up and often I wipe my mouth with my sleeve afterwards or sometimes some toilet paper if there is any, but most often times at bars, there isn't any toilet paper because women stuff their bras with it and you cant ask the stall next to you for toilet paper because then you'll get AIDS and have to explain to your boyfriend why you can't have sex with him and why you're in love with someone else and why you don't believe in love because you're a scientologist. but he'll understand because you just really aren't as pretty as you thought you were.
I thought about taking pictures with my guinness can and posting them on myspace because that's what girls my age do, they take pictures with inanimate objects and try to pick up predators with them.
I like the taste of predators. Sometimes I have them for breakfast. I especially like how they curb the taste of marmalade because I never liked marmalade before I had a predator. One day I was sitting at my desk writing bad poetry and eating my first predator and I said,
this would really taste good with orange peel and sugar and goo
and that was the last time I had a predator without marmalade.
And that's when I remembered I couldn't write and I needed another beer.
I often hear confessions from men when they get drunk. They tell me the most ridiculous things. I often think its probably because I'm Catholic and they assume that I'm so used to confessions that I probably won't mind, but I was never confirmed and I really don't care about people so it honestly seems moot to me. One day, perhaps, I'll interrupt and say so.
I think everyone is ignoring me via text message, but its nearly midnight and who wants to hear me confess things? I'm just as bad. Maybe I'll kill myself and text message them and tell them all that I killed myself and see who responds but I bet no one will.
I think I'm going to drown myself in the swimming pool,
but I've just remembered its closed and locked with a big sign that says WARNING
oh well, i guess i'll just sleep.