Disappearing Acts

Disappearing Acts, I love the tittle, best describes me in relationship to any one I care about. A six year old boy who's life i once was apart of every day for over four and a half years asked me after not seeing me for seven months, "Where were you all that time?".
The answer? Getting high and feeling like shit, well that's 40% of the time, the other 60% is sitting in my room, giving up on trying to live but listening to the voice in side (Cause I can't shut it up) tell me that I'd be an idiot to believe that happiness is out of my grasp and you know exactly what you need to do to have the life that you want.

It sucks to live in a place that sucks for so long that you get use to it and feel uncomfortable when anything about what sucks changes.

It sucks to live in a place that sucks and the only thing that keeps you there is you not getting up.

I hate living in a box cutting myself off from the world leaving my apartment once a week to get food, talking to another human being only through texting, getting high one weekend a month doing laundry every other month, waking up past out on the floor that I've mopped ten times in two days, shivering cause I wont put on dirty clothes but I have no clean ones, on the floor surrounded by pictures of the life I forget I once had getting wet from the over use of dish liquid on the floor, freezing cause even though it's 40 degrees outside some crack head left the windows open and passed out in the middle of my floor naked

Now naked open honest and truthful until i pass out and wake up again two days later wishing i wasn't so mean to some 23 year old white boy with an amazing ass, mean to some trick i picked up at some tricks house who managed to get me out of the house with the offer of cabfare and crystal meth and needles and blood and the desire to not care if death wants to pay a visit cause you already dead living dead living

and I wake up in the middle of the floor cold shivering goose bumps, bumps from chemicals pumped into my viens, bumps from my head making a violent plunge to the floor,

The floor is so wet and cold and the mouse is in the trash and I'm breathing and Ahh, I am alive, thank God,

And the voice says, "Then why the fuck do you keep on killing yourself?"

I don't want to be alone but I keep abandoning myself, cause I don't know how to feel comfortable loving myself with out some one else to actively reminding me that I'm worth loving, so I get sober for ten months every other year and I get in a relationship and once I can't keep lying to myself about how I don't need him even though I'm with him I realize I need him like a hit, or i'm naked freezing in the middle of my floor after two days of crazy multiple partnered unsafe unloving self hating disease spreading soul killing sex

Deeper.

My earliest child hood memory, three guys shoving there dick in my mouth at the age of two.

Live in father figure like to to pretend I was a gulf ball on a regular basis with his club

I don't really have accessible feelings about those things, but I'm sure they have something to do with the way I live my life.

Ah, being the oldest of 4/2 (mom/pop) brothers and sisters and not knowing anything about thier lives for the past 20 years. And every time i see them I come home and relapse And I never see it coming...

I've dissapeared I'm not high today, but I'm in my box not taking calls not going out wishing I was cuddling, with Hunter, hish it was 1999. That's where I'll be when I clothes my eyes, untill I reappear

Life is what you make it!

That is what they say. And I believe it. I tested the theory last year by giving up partying every night to become a "Broadway Produced" playwright with in a year. But right now is all that matters, and right now I'm in my self imposed prison getting up to eat and shit and occasionally watch tv on my "how do I still have the internet with out the bill being paid" computer. "They" call it depression, I call it self reflection and it happens at least twice a year.

A time where I look a round my room and realize my life is as clean as my apartment and I dont let myself leave until every inch is sparkling. I must learn to balance relationships and how to not loose touch with the world when in this process. This is not easy when part of the process is cutting myself off from the rest of the world. Especially knowing in most studies of animals the loner animal dies the soonest. But still here I am alone taking my good old time cleaning my life and why not. I don't want to miss anything, its my life after all