no one fucks with our cats' porch

yes it is before 8am on sunday. the same numbness, boredom and emptiness of late greeted me with good morning wishes. i can't help but feel inundated and paralyzed by my own hands. i'd love to spend all day today by myself to try to see if these feelings take root or if i'll be able to hold them at bay. fuck that, i'd like to be alone because that's what i know fits me like a cozy socks. i can't help but think even if i get thru today, there's still tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and the day after after tomorrow. the endless cycle repeating itself. another day equals another day of baby's kisses, i tell myself. another day of being able to finally stab the villain who makes me unhappy. a big, shining scythe i take. split my depression right down the middle. a perfect symmetry achieved for my OCD-lite-ness.

whatever. i sure do talk alot of talk but when it comes down to it, i won't do shit. what i'll do is roll another joint, smoke & try to find solace in video games. when did it get so complicated? when did my feelings all decide to go on strike? too cute of them not to forget turning apathy & emptiness on high before leaving the building. can't function if i can't see what's in front of me. gotta suck it up and be in a good mood for my girl, right? she's not feeling her best so i'll make do. i always do.

can't i go a god damn week without being like this? i don't know if i'll ever get better. i don't understand why i don't have the motivation. it's been zapped out of me and has found another host. i bleed and yet don't reach for a bandaid. i stare at the blood. i play with the blood but don't care to stop the bleeding. i simply don't care...enough.