thought stream

it's 1:12 in the afternoon, and i wasn't even awake this time yesterday. i've been thinking lately. there's nothing you can really read into in that statement. it's just some thinking, more or less. i've been pumping my lungs with cancer, and trying to pump my brain full of thoughts. my brain's like a big IMAX screen. it takes big film, and puts out big pictures. i wish that i could publish that, but IMAX is probably trademarked. everything in the fucking universe is probably trademaked at this point. fuck. i should put a trademark on myself. all rights are reserved. they are reserved to me to do my bidding. they are my thoughts alone, regardless of them being brilliant or shit. it's 1:16 in the afternoon, and today's more dead than a latina hooker on chicago's southside. i don't feel sexy. you can't feel sexy at 1:17 in the afternoon. i guess you can, but i can't. i've seen a lot of cars and trucks going down a lot of streets, filled with construction and potholes, and streetlights that protect no one. the streetlights are funny, the way they work. they are set out to provide safety, and to clean up the streets. they're bullshit. they are always going out, at the worst times. pretty ladies are always getting raped underneath them. the lights from down the street are never bright enough. i am never bright enough. i've got some problems with some things. one of those things is an inability to make percise statements. i'm too broad. i issue blanket statements. i wish they could just tuck me in and let me sleep like i did yesterday. falling asleep at 6 in the morning, and sleeping upside down on my bed. my feet were on my pillows yesterday, and my head was at the foot of the bed. it's 1:22 in the afternoon, and i just made the contribution of a bad name for a male enhancement drug in a sex class. i told her, "softee" would be bad. the class laughed, but it's true. i've got the onset of a headache creeping up. i don't have one yet, but i can feel it in the left side of my brain. it's crawling up like an infant creeps across the floor. it's coming soon, and i'm ready for it. i hate headaches, but i can't take asprin anymore. i've done that too much to take. it now takes 3000 mg to take my headaches away. i go through about a bottle a day, and that's bullshit. i've been thinking about my life, you know. i said earlier that i've been thinking. the deal is laid out in the following way. i will leave my parent's house in january. i am to start a life on my own. i am attempting to do well in school, regardless of what my fucking father says. i can't really deal with it sometimes. i have trouble concentrating my efforts. i trail off, and lose myself in thought. so what? what's wrong with thinking. here's the deal with what i hate the most. i lost the best thing in my life, but it's okay. i'm still working on getting the fuck over it. my thoughts are drowned in useless shit that companies try to sell me. the billboards, the radio slots, the words plastered across trucks and cities. i hate my life. so what? deal with it. it's my life. it's okay though, i won't end it. i'm too much of a hopeless romantic. i've needed something to sit and heal me. something to get through me theraputically. that's why i'm writing down everything that won't suffice. i am going to the doctor, so don't go and tell me that i need help. i have moved past that phase, and soon i will be getting that professional help. they'll give me sessions, they'll give me pills, and they'll barrage my ass with questions. they will only stop when i am fetal position, crying on the floor. it's okay, i'll move on. that's what i'nm doing with my life. it's 1:33 in the afternoon, and i'm learning. i am learning a lot. women have more problems with orgasms. did anyone know that or care? hopefully. hopefully. or else, that was all a wasted effort. my headache's starting to form. it's about to go ahead and be born. i will kill it before it creeps on up and bites me in the ass. i just realized that i have not eaten food today, but it's okay. the only thing that'l do is make me a little bit skinnier. i wish that i could explain all the things that i am feeling. i wish that i could put down in words a summation of everything. but one can't do that. one can not do that. one can never fucking do that. there is no way in hell that anyone can say everything. the chalkboard's getting crowded. it's full of arrows, times, and words. there's some cute little scribbles. my teacher's walking back and forth and putting more stuff on the board. on a side note, my teachers used to caution me on saying, "a lot", and "stuff", but i thumb my nose at that. if it's the best word to put down, then why can't i say it. it is mine and mine alone. the time is now 1:39 in the afternoon. it's monday. i must say that i am agravated by the thought of mondays. i yawn because i'm tired, or maybe someone else just yawned. i put the hood on my sweatshirt up, because it drowns out a little more noise. it makes it easier to focus. it makes it easier to dream. i try and tune out. i try to drop out and immerse myself in thought. i have a lot of thought. i'm just not able to control it. it's 1:41 in the afternoon, and i'm sick of moving my fingers. my thoughts aren't about to die down though. my brain is a feisty fuck.