Found this on my old dead writing tumblr. Not bad.
It’s cold outside this liquor store. My ride is 10 minutes away, so: I wait and I freeze as I stare at McDonald’s, Chinese and GNC across the way from me. An emergency vehicle parks to my left Warm in his car probably considering me for a theft. Because I’m alone and I’m black and … Continue reading Liquor Store
Stream of Conscious
I don't always feel like writing. That makes me feel guilty. I can't tell if it's legitimate exhaustion or man-made. I pray that God returns my motivation. I think of returning to therapy. I wonder if I should call my uncle. Is this stream of conscious shit interesting to anyone?
I feel full of ideas with no follow through. Everyday, I wonder when I'm going to make a move. My eyes are filled with tears at the ready. The pills and the pride keep me from breaking. I'm not sure how much longer they can keep gripping. I'm bursting at the seams; my mind is … Continue reading Mind. Hands.
Try to Sleep
There's a new level of loneliness that the song gives me. Something the drinking started. Something from watching people go. Something from getting no calls. The words are so specific, but the feeling is so universal. I want to die. I want to live harder. I want to feel people. I want to hurt. I … Continue reading Try to Sleep
Tonight, I've been drinking alone. At first it was fun. Singing and dancing, happy. Then it got serious. Sad and alone. Lonely. Times like this scare me. Family disease. I want another, but I'm going to sleep. Probably best.