You made a plan to love me
with more than you had left.
All your dreams died down
when you took me off the shelf.


I'm the basketball in the Bright Eyes song. I'm the poem on the page. I'm in a storm. But it had been getting sunnier, so I guess the rain was needed. Monday night was a blessing, and I'm glad for Monday night. I forgive, and I don't even need to forgive. I just forgive. And I know I've done so much more that's wrong, but we'll get past it, weed through it. The feeling is nice. I was on a forgiveness high until I got home and ate cereal. The cereal killed it. Food kills highs because it brings lows, growing lows. But oh well.

Today I coasted. I wasn't alive or awake. I just coasted. And I laughed at stupid things, and I had to try. I had to try so hard. But it was OK because I was getting by. And then I hear words and words and ideas and rage seeps in like a poison. And I'm alive. I have reasons. So I fed of the anger and it kept me going until the end of the day and then I heard more words, words to my face, words with no authenticity, words with no backbone.. but I believed them with my whole heart. And the rage turned to sadness and it poured through my eyes. And it was a big sadness, an isolation sadness. But at the same time, I wanted to be with everyone and say everything all at once. But then I went walking, and I thought about how I was alone and how much I liked it. I don't know. I need to chill out.

I'm stopping meds tonight. I can't do it anymore.