am i supposed to be happy now that i'm back home for a little while?
not too much about this place has ever made me happy.
and the people that made it home, are gone.
gone from here,
gone from themselves
it hurts to see peoples daily lives
without the exuberance of youth
within them or around them
an old mans' fight to keep his own mind
a womans daily struggle to find meaning
a young man forced to leave home to find himself
kids selling crack, quitting their dreams, forgetting themselves,
their "friends" smoking crack
their parents smoking crack
some guy deals with his minute by minute bipolarism
by photographing his world.
grown ass adults dealing with the reality that their parents (and themselves) are human,
they are born, they grow, love, decay and die (all in one breath)
my grandad
my mom
my best friend, luis
marshall, maurice, luis, (countless others known and unknown)
brentwood, my hood
marshall's mom marjana and butch
me
my dad who's father has altzheimers, my mom who's mother is a 3 year breast cancer survivor and who's father is recovering from colon cancer surgery, my self who is trying to cope with the phenomenon of death (my own and others'), and anyone else i have ever met
everyday i wake up and want to die, everyday i wake up and think "one day i'm going to kill myself", everyday. what good comes with coping with the world? what is the purpose of pain? to make me stronger? why am i not equipped to be strong enough? to be strong PERIOD? why drag myself through the mud of existence?
"pain is just another stain on the box spring"; extra points if you 1) reply to anything i have said 2) can identify this quote and 3) give an explanation of what it means to you.
sometimes when its really quiet i think i can hear other people on the internet too. once in a while they leave comments.