non-fiction

i sit in the middle of my futon
typing on my powerbook
the futon reminds me of the futon my ex and i had sex on
feel like i want to 'get the fuck away from this thing'
i walk up stairs
the first, fourth, sixth and eleventh stairs creak
it's 4:47a.m. and dark on the ground floor of the house
i can't see but am aware of a subconscious knowledge of objects in the house
and a distinct sensation of there being photons around somewhere
i walk outside
the alarm system beeps, says 'front door' and i indulge the notion that i am waking everyone
i smile out of fear

it is cool out
too cool for a tee shirt, slim slacks and vans, especially without socks
i open the door inward
the alarm system says beeps and says 'front door'
i see my winter coat on the living room couch
i vaguely indulge the notion of it being 'meant to be' there
i don't feel stupid for thinking this, just human, and then depressed
i put on the coat
i go outside and take out my wallet
there are three parliament lite cigarettes inside of it
one of them is crushed
i take out a non-crushed parliament, suddenly remembering, through word association, that i don't have a lighter
i think:

the alarm system will say 'front door' again and i will hate suburbia
and i will remember that i don't live in 'suburbia'
and that i just live with people who have a suburban mindset

i find a lighter in the middle drawer of the desk beneath a gold-gilded-frame painting of george washington praying the morning of the 'delaware river fiasco'
i am aware of the painting, but don't look up at it
i leave the door cracked this time
i imagine that the cigarette that is magic
in addition to it being cool, there is water falling from the sky
i don't want water to fall onto the cigarette
one drop of water somehow managed to fall 15,000ft directly onto my cigarette
i think distinctly about the notion that if water falls from the sky onto the localized point of sustained heat generated by the tobacco and paper and chemicals burning away the cigarette, the thermal energy will transfer from that localized point, to the water, which will steal desired heat from my imagined magic wand
i move backward a little bit, nervously, beneath the porch light

i want to spit, because i am paranoid about swallowing nicotine saliva
i spit onto the lawn
the manner in which my face contorts while spitting resultes in my eyes looking directly toward something
i mistake it for a slug
it is actually a dry leaf that is no longer dry because there is now water on it
from the rain

the vast majority of the emotions i feel are too intense for 'normals' to deal with.

i am currently feeling disparagement
because people don't feel the desire to accommodate my needs
because i have to provide for myself
because love is not all that you need
because money and restraint and blackmail are important
in a working relationship
and this makes me feel confused
because of what i was taught as a child
because of what i saw on 'sesame street'
because of what a snuffleupagus sang nasally and endearingly and a little bit creepily to me
through a television screen
because of what john lennon and his compatriot rock music icons told me
through a set of headphones
one of them, mick jagger, i think, said 'you can't always get what you want...
...but if you try sometimes, you get what you need'
i don't know where the comma belongs in that lyric
because when i hear the song, i think that i put it in the right place
but when i look at life, i feel like he might have wanted to change it to:
'but if you try...
...sometimes you get what you need'

once i wanted to have a good time at a party
so i drank a reasonable amount of alcohol
and smoked a reasonable amount of marijuana
and took a reasonable amount of illegally-acquired prescription medication
and this caused me to be 'somewhat tolerable' for 3-7 hours

alone

i just realized that all that i want in life is to be alone
and as an accessory to my being alone,
i want every autonomous thing in the world to be aware of and constantly be ruminating on the fact that they need to leave me alone
i want there to be multiple women on a sort of medication that keeps them perpetually aroused
who take shifts arbitrarily being in another room, either cooking stuff or lying on an enormous cuddle rug in a sexy but not robotic or inhuman manner
so that i can shuffle around a little until i am standing,
walk into that room, stick my tongue in their mouths,
cry a little bit, and then walk back to my room and be alone again
i also want a superfluously hi-tech computer system that has access to every social networking interface ever created
but that cannot physically post anything anywhere
sort of like the relationship god has with reality

i want this so that i can creep everyone on the internet, and always know whats going viral and be in touch with what appears cool to me as i go out of date
and i want my own robot friend, like HAL, that is programmed to observe me at all times
and that can create automated responses to all of my insecurities
and even make me feel bad when necessary, so as to help me grow up or something
i also want to have a surrogate mother who doesnt piss me off every time that she speaks english
and a surrogate father as well
who actually gives relevant advice and who doesnt confuse the ideas of what he wants with what i need or whats "good" for everybody/the universe
i want to be completely and utterly alone
by myself
only me
with no one else
a single entity on an infinite plane
i want everything in the world that is chaotic and insane to go about its way
only caring about its chaotic and insane self
and for it to pay little to no attention to me

now that i think about it, i actually feel that this poem describes exactly how it actually is
thats pretty sweet
i am sort of grinning about everything to myself because it feels good to be alone and i feel justified a little

now i am feeling severely depressed about everything and wish that i could really connect with just one interesting person forever