negativei am a meat popcicle's blog: "well fucking-A"

when will reality break and i'll have that voice in my head to tell me just to stop? aaaand when that voice comes will it be my own or some foregin voice i've never heard before. i think i'd want a french accent peering down on me whispering my name along with other obscenities to get my life in order. but please define order. it is stacking things 1 2 3 in perfect fit or stacking things in 2 1 3 in stilla perfect fit but is it actually in order. i thought about writing a disclaimer. but then i thought against it but then i figured i could at least say to fuck off if your lost,bored or confuseed by what my fingers are producing. yes my fingers because i can't see two feet away fom my face without seeing double. i wish i could call her. her voice is soothing to the loud clanking of my mind.. the buzzing. my left hand is asleep but not too asleep to where i can't mve it but just asleep enough to where i have that slightly rough tingle starting from the tips of my fingggers, balling at my wrist and in one single line shooting up my forearm. if you have yet to experence this feeling i suggest that you have it. be cause it doesn't feel like my hand. it feels like someone elses. it is trippin me out but not enough to wrry about it.

540am ...pissed off and frustrated with my mind. it WON"T let me sleep. i went to the doc yesterday. last time i went he put me on paxil. he said let's try to get your anxiety down then maybe you can sleep. i shrugged and said whatever helps i'm up for it. so i get home and i'm excited. finally maybe this shit will fix my mood and fix it to where i can at least get 8 hours of sleep without taking a handful of tylenol pm. (note-6-8 tylenol pm's would knock me out for about 4 hours. 8-11 would be about six...my liver hated me..it was an every night thing) i found myself taking the paxil. (which fucked with me more than helped me) my mood was either great with more pronouced anxiesty and nervousness or a shitty fucking mood, but my nerves as calm as week old water in the sink. but guess what i STILL couldn't sleep. i was poppin' through pills like there wasn't any tomorrow. i could go through a 50 pill bottle of tylenol pm in a week. the trazidone that i was one didn't do shit but give me a migraine and i was borrowing mom valiums to just relax for once hour. i could pop vicodin like they were fucking pez. darvacet..nada.. not.fun.at.all. and most will look at me and say 'ash those aren't sleeping meds' and i'll look at you and say i know that you fuckheads but something has to make me out of my mind loopy to just shut my fucking brain off yeah? so i go to the doc yesterday. i look at him with bloodshot eyes and said 'man...give me something that will knock my ass out. something specifically for insomnia' (i'm up all hours of the night. in the wee hours of the morning there are only so many infomercials i can watch to keep myself from going insane....or maybe they are the reason i do feel fucking nuts.) he throws ambien my way. of course my insurance doesn't cover most of it so it still ends up being 30+ dollars for me to take this shit, but i'm like a kid in a candy store when i get home. (go figure that i compare a kid in a candy store to my junkie pill popper sort of way) i'm thinking i've never taken this one before...worth a shot. crawl in bed 9pm. take meds 920. awake awake awake 11pm come down stairs and dick around on here midnight back in bed. awake awake awake toss turn 2am i'm staring at my wall keeping myself away from the tylenol pm bottle because i'm wanting to suck all of that down. i got 3 hours of sleep the day before. i'm desperate. 3am FINALLY knock out. 320am oh nope..no sleep for you 4am YES maybe this is it 430 am no...no....it wasn't. i'm wide awake tossing in my bed. so after an hour of tossing in my bed. falling asleep for 5 minute intervals i said fuck it. my eyes are swollen. probably about 5 hours of sleep in the past two days. what is wrong with me. i can't talk to myself anymore so i'm shutting up. it is 601am.

death leads me into a sudden halt halfway through my words...i'm left panting and stale mouthed rotten. i wake up but keep my eyes firmly shut, not wanting to accept that the dream always ends the same way, leaving me with the same familiar feeling of helplessness mixed with guilt that i can't remember the precise feeling of the way her hair felt between my fingertips. the way her scent floated across bits of oxygen inhaled into my lungs. i believed time has stopped in this exact moment. time has never run out on me before, there's always been that extra second to relieve me from the last, but the clock is mocking me at the moment. i need a stop gap in the road to regenerate the will to keep moving. does that read and resound pathetic? i'm 21 and she's been gone for far too long yet i still feel the need for an intermission, but looking back always seems so pointless because change is never available. change cannot happen. i dream. i wake. i shake my head. at the moment i feel trapped inside a euphoric web of what i’d describe as my own little crazy world which for a few months appears to be one of my greatest adventures. others would call it pulling sheets over eyes and ducking in the corner, but then again it's all perspective isn't it? when i awake everything feels like it’s been a waste of time and i actually look in the mirror for the first time, realising that i’m like everyone else who’s ever been in this situation.. that is, a fool who kept telling themselves they were in control. it makes one wonder if you are ever in control. am i controlling what i'm telling you now or am i for once letting it spill, ease and drip out of the corners of my mouth. does my throat continue it's filter because i am not willing to admit to myself?..admit...admit...deny...that i can’t really put my finger on or describe fully in text what spews in my thought processes. i think i let my fingers do the work and i'm just along for the ride, well....i suppose you are to, that is if you've made it this far. and if you have made it this far i have to ask you why is this worth reading? will you lose sleep? be restless tonight twirling my illogical garbage trying to find some meaning? do i even mean anything? i don't feel as if you really understand what is going on here. everything feels like it fades within a period of time. memories fade, friendships become muted, relationships less intense. death of whatever we try to grab onto withers away into a pile of dust you kick around on a daily basis. i think that is when your mind gets dangerous. i think that is when my mind gets dangerous and i thought i had successfully stopped caring about the nagging ticks in my head. afterall how long can you ignore a timebomb behind your eyes? i wonder what the meaning of lie is. i mean life, sorry. beginning to notice more and more how people waste a whole lot of time trying to “find themselves” and in turn all end up in the same place; wondering why they bothered looking. maybe i notice it more and more in myself. i feel like i picked myself up hitchhiking. what am i looking for and where am i going? would you pick me up? i could entertain you with stylized verbs and adjectives. be quarky,clever.odd. i lie. i lie. lied. filler talk is all this is. but what's in a lie? i'm secretly romanticizing about the future, being an artist. having someone sit there and listen to me for hours babble on about absolutly nothing. while i sit there and laugh at them(quitely of course i wouldn't want to hur ttheir feelings) because they don't realize just how unimportant my words are but they make like it is the world., but what is the point of saying that out loud. it loses the romance and i realize that i'm just a over blown and burnt out cliche of woman in her 20's with false high hopes and just plain ridiculous stoned fantasies. but the world is a beautiful place, you know.

insomnia blows. my days get slower and slower. my chainsmoking gets worse and worse. i know i should quit, but when you're awake for 3/4's of every night and day, what else are you suppose to do to keep yourself occupied? i'm starting to get a headache. i've already had three, but that is mainly do to withdrawl. fucking paxil. i think i curse too much. i talk like a trucker driver, however i don't really mind all too much. i haven't written anything in days. i can't seem to find it. i wonder how i'm ever going to get a publishing contract. where my book gets published and i'm forced to get new material out in a year. one year to bleed on pages and make it sincere. too bad you couldn't take a pill for writers block...someone would make millions. other people would make thousands. everyone wins. i've also wondered why they can't just make one super toothpaste. i went to buy toothpaste at walmart and i stood in front of all the gleaming boxes. whiten. tarter control. cavity protection. enamel protection. sensitive teeth. mint. spearmint. lemon. crystals. pastes. gels. all for one specfic action. i figured that there has to be a way to make a do everything toothpaste, but then again all the chemicals in one toothpaste i'm sure would eat your mouth. and that is not sexy. go figure. i'm rambling.