so tired

so tired I want to throw up
who’d have thought exhaustion could make you feel like this
12 hours sleep in 4 days
the heat
the heat
the heat
woke up today to go work
should’ve known it was bad
stomach disgusting and swollen
fat sack full of shit and bile
want to spit at myself
seeing that in the mirror
work and caffeine and work and caffeine
and for a little while its ok
and then its back to crap
the sweat
the sweat dripping
oozing like oil down my neck and back
candle flame burning on the inside of my head
on break and into the toilet before I lose my breakfast
but it doesn’t come out
take a shit instead
hot and bubbly and god-awful
when will it end?

Trying

She wants me in the day
she wants me at night
In between she’s got me sitting on ice-packs ‘til my balls ache with frostbite
but there’s nothing blue about them.
The sex is good
but honestly
my favourite part is afterward
seeing her looking so stupid and adorable
standing on her head
to help the sperm on its way.

Float

Yesterday I got a promotion
the boss said all these nice things
about me of all people
and I wondered what was going on
but couldn’t figure it out.

After he told me I tried really hard to keep from smiling
I didn’t want them to know
that I secretly felt validated
I didn’t want to relinquish my grip on my cool persona
I like that persona.

I still don’t understand
I stopped trying to impress people a long time ago
and that only seems to impress them more
I stopped trying to be accepted
and people seem to like who I am
I stopped looking for love
and it snuck up on me.

I don't get it.
I feel like everything’s gone crazy.

Trickles

At work, when the customers dry up and there’s nothing to do, the passing of time feels like the creak of aching bones. The superhuman supervisor is always one step ahead of everyone else. I think he has precognitive abilities. Anything I can think of doing he has already done.
My head gets that achy, floaty feeling, like my brain is slipping on ice. That feeling always makes me thirsty, so I grab a paper cup. I feel tired and hopeless and then I hear a noise that gives me hope! The clinky noise of the ice machine!
Forgetting myself, forgetting my surroundings, I crouch down and open the sliding door to watch the slow tinkle of ice babies being born and I smile.

Later I walk home and shield my face from the blows of the sun. Under a tree I seek refuge: a brief respite from the heat and a chance to wipe the sweat from my brow and regather my wits. Just when I’m feeling better I look down and see two broken halves of an eggshell. Instinctively I look up for a nest but see nothing. Down below is the horrible carnage of the ants, their gooey mandibles tearing at the yellow innards of the shell. Clawing, clicking, crunching.
I can’t watch.

Later at home, long after the sun has gone down, I’m still awake. I lie down in a bed with a gaping hole on one side and stay there feeling the pain of that void and nothing more.
I can’t sleep. I toss and turn for a while.
Much later, in a semi-lucid state, I take a pillow and put it against the wall, down low against my back. And as I drift to sleep I forget the simulation I have made and it becomes real, and for a few slumberous moments she’s lying next to me in the dark, our bottoms softly touching beneath the blankets.

Ways I Feel After Watching A David Lynch Film

Scared. No, Terrified. That is foremost.
Tired and Woozy.
That weird Headachy feeling. When your eyeballs slide.
Sexually Stimulated, particularly when Naomi Watts is involved.
Titillated, Fascinated and generally Overstimulated.
Confused like running through tunnels.
Awed that someone can imagine that way.

A Version of Me

Sometimes I wake up in the morning half alive half dead and wonder whether there’s any reason to get up at all.
Sometimes I realize I don’t like me a whole lot but that’s okay I’ll just create a new me starting now.
Yesterday I realized my narrative voice is terribly unnaturally inauthentically me.
Yes, yes there are a lot of things to correct.

Most days I spend at least 15 minutes wondering just what the hell it is I’m doing.
In summer I usually seize up in terror once a day wondering if this is the day my hair melts into the top of my head like some greasy cake decoration.
(Black things conduct heat)!

Sometimes I think my love of sci-f has taught me to be good at sex.
No seriously because I can suspend my disbelief and focus and not get hung up wondering how on earth I got myself into this situation in the first place.
Otherwise how would anything get done?

In certain specific conditions I will lose my appetite entirely for three days and not really know why.
Then my hunger will return at 3.22am in a rush like copulating teenagers.
And then what do you do?
Somebody tell me seriously I don’t know. Can you justify getting something to eat at that time?

Some part of me still wants to be used and abused by awful sorts because let’s face it doing the wrong thing can be fun sometimes.
Even if it ends up feeling like tearing the muscle clean off the bone.
No no wait no it’s more like that disappointment feeling.
Like that moment of quiet ‘oh.’ when the house lights go up at the end of night/start of day.

Sometimes I like to go swimming in the mornings even though I’m half a chance to drown myself.
Me in the water is like a fish trying to swim through chocolate syrup.
But that won’t stop me I’m stubborn like that plus I love that aquamarine colour of water in a synthetic body.

Somewhere I read that the smell / look of violets evokes memories of the dead and dead romance.
This interested me enough to write it down in my notes but how can I use it?
I don’t know anything about flowers.

Passenger

Today I’m not the driver
someone else is in control
but from him or her I’m totally
divorced.

I’m not sure that I trust the
person sitting at the wheel
because they’re always trying to make
a stop.

I hope they know the way to
go I’d help them if I could
but it’s difficult because I’m
half-asleep.