conformity......

i once swore to the world that i would never have a job wearing a knit shirt and khakis sitting behind a desk..  that i would never have the normal house in the suburbs with a kid..  i was special.  i was different.  i will never fall into that dark spiraling hell that is middle america..  yet here i am<br>
when mom died i swore that i would never enter a fucking hospital again.. that her house would remain as she made it..  yet my son was born and my dad remarried..  and my hard-thought instincts were thrown to the wind.. 
when i went to rehab, i swore that i would never..  well not never..  well..  i guess that's the kicker isn't it..  i've never said never on drinking..  well this is still a new concept..  much like being pulled from my comfort in my freshman year at ECU.. new, annoying, invasive, estranging...
but like all the rest, i have to find a way out..  a way to make it mine..  to not conform exactly like it's supposed to be.. to see it from the outside looking in..

this is the hardest thing i have ever tried to deal with..  unlike my past with lost loves, forced realities, unknown forces pushing and pulling...  objects that were out of my control..  here lies an aspect that i can control and cannot.. 

sick...

betrayed by my own thinking..
ailing yet my hand reaches for that can.

((you shit your pants today))
brutal honesty is never fun..

in rehab they said to remember the pain..  what about the current pain you're in trying to make sense of all this?

once the addiction is out there, once it's made real, and seen for the voracious beast that it is..  it's no fun anymore..  

sobriety 2.0

do i feel like shit for just dumping an empty bottle of cisco in the trash?  and am i drunk or did the font just change to bold?


addiction is a butch, biker bitch with brassknuckles..

i think it will be sort of cathartic to put it all out there and just live it..