Entry Doesn't Match.

I feel lonely.  Lonely physically and somewhat emotionally.  It has nothing to do with my break up or anything to do with romantic relationship.  I am lonely because I feel simply alone.  I'm just so far away from everything.  All my friend's have things to do and things that they are doing with their life.  I feel like I'm alone in this, like I'm just so far away from being able to actually enjoy life.  It feels like I'm just existing.  I'm so bored with life at the moment.  There's nothing to actually do.  I thought about looking into plane flights to other cities where I have friends who would let me stay with them for a week or so, but all of the tickets were pretty far out of reach price-wise.  I would take any flight right now to almost any city just to get out of here.

Word of mouth.

Sometimes I wish I could retrace my steps back to the depths of a good memoir,
when the good wishes weren't washed off with the dishes of all the garbage that
got thrown away, blown away, and im stuck still caged with the rage of that of an animal,
like a cannibal for misery it feeds me wealthy, and little did I know that it was unhealthy,
all the effects were stealthy, behind my back were the attacks and all i felt at the time was
bliss.  It was ignorance that slain the great warrior and blinded by love in which slain the order,
but the biggest was a head on, for the headstrong, eventhough he had his head wrong, tipped it in and out,
like donations from the devout, and the believers, but im not a sinner, I'm a seer.

COPYRIGHT OF ALEXANDER POULOS 

My mind is racing, and its just going everywhere. Im crying on the inside, i just want everything to stop..I want my mind to stop....

"I'm having another episode.."

"I just need a stronger dose."

He sits and he waits for another single message to drop in his lap, like letters from above minus the religion, add more raindrop on heads and out of luck kids.  Stuck in my own little downward spiral, like a cracked bottle dripping its tunes away...  I'm a mess in every way.  I feel like throwing (up) my pills just to take them again, so I can just let myself feel a moment where I dont need another worry.  I dont know how poetic I need to be, I'm just a mess times it by 3.

A Clockwork Orange..

"When I die, fuck it I wanna go to hell
Cause I'm a piece of shit, it ain't hard to fuckin' tell
It don't make sense, goin' to heaven wit the goodie-goodies
Dressed in white, I like black Tims and black hoodies
God will probably have me on some real strict shit,
No sleepin' all day, getting shit fit, Hangin' with the goodie-goodies loungin' in paradise
Fuck that shit, I wanna tote guns and shoot dice
All my life I been considered as the worst, Listening to my stepfather sit and curse,
Time after time, makin' my mother feel bad, like shit ain't worth living the life she wish she had, life aint what it was when I was younger, Having a happy home, and food to stop my hunger, wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes? Forgive me for my shock, but im ready to die, I swear to God I just want to slit my wrists and end this bullshit Throw the Magnum to my head, threaten to pull shit, And squeeze, until the bed's, completely red I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless fuckin' buddah head. The stress is buildin' up, I can't, I can't believe suicide's on my fuckin' mind I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is fuckin' callin' me
Naw you wouldn't understand.  Listening to a old fucking man, boss my momma around like he's the head honcho, like in his early 30's doing a rampart combo, I swear sometimes I lose my mind all the thoughts build and the stress begins to climb, a stupid ass stepdad-so much for a father, the only reason I'm around is for my brother, my mother, and my friends and family. I need a place to set my brain, without making any ends.

Dear Journal, Mark it 12.15.09

Dear Journal,

It's been a long time since I've actually decided to write something worth reading
for more than twenty seconds.  I think it's probably because, I haven't had the feeling
to write in you as avidly as I used to.  Lately I've been drowning myself in a combination of
Tupac & The Beatles.  I know, weird combo, but it's been working.  One takes me someplace outside
of my own mind, and into a trance, the other brings me back to reality.  I've been listening to other artists
as well, but I've been desperately trying to find some older 1500-1600s style orchestration from Italy, similar to Vivaldi.  Other than that, I've been trying to hold my head under the water of these music notes and lyrics to leave me without air so I can get rid of the things that bring me discomfort. 
                    I've been on a sort of "I'm just existing" sort of feeling.  Ever since my girl left for California, I've been feeling lonely.  I've had nightmares recently.  I always have nightmares about things going wrong with my relationship when I'm enjoying it so much... It's really hard sometimes to tell if they're real or not when they are happening, but then I wake up and my heart slows back down. I start to feel slightly better.

I'm depressed...

Thug Nature.

"why cry? Tell em' that it's my thug nature, why cry? when I do it that way?"


I've been depressed ever since my girl has been gone.  I've had nightmares of ex-girlfriends, as funny as it sounds, it's not.  Sometimes, as much as I dislike my exs I am curious how they are sometimes, how they are doing and how life is for them. Am I weird for that? does that make me a bad boyfriend to my current girl for being curious about how my exs maybe doing?

Fuck my life.

Strawberry Fields

"Strawberry Fields......
Nothing is real......
Nothing to get hung about,
Strawberry Fields forever"

There's a time where a person loses themselves. In a way I'm confused
about my life in some way. I have a recording stammering in my head,
also known as a broken record. I've been having weird dreams.
Nightmares. And yet they throw my whole day off... What's wrong with
me? "Nothing is real"....

Come with me, Hail Mary, run quick see, what do we have here?

Lord forgive me for my sins, i know its last minute.

"I won't cut my beard and I won't change my hair,
it grows like fancy flowers, but it grows nowhere,
my hair, my hair..
If I could build my house just like the Trojan horse,
I'd put a statue of myself upon the shelf, of course,
of course, of course."

Communication is a lighted path way in the fog, without it, how does one expect to exit the isles of abyss?