Monster

Tonight I’m a monster. A walking patch of black, snarling, with wiped off smiles dangling limp and lifeless in my jaws. A mass of negative energy so ferocious I will crack open your bones and fill your marrow with cold aching dread.

Frustrated insecure artists foam in the mouth, feeding off their own bad vibrations. Artists with great feedback loops are happier people. Right now there is not a single positively charged particle in my entire body and my brain is heavy and swollen with doubt. I haven’t slept in three days and my head aches… I cannot drag my carcass out of the door in the mornings and be productive. I feel distant and lonely and when I look at my relationships I can think of only two that do not exist conditionally. I have nothing to offer anyone right now, no mirth, no joy and definitely no pleasantness. My nose is bloody from allergies and prevents me from crying, despite the many, many sorrowful overfull lakes in my eyes. I want to rip off my body and be weightless. But instead I’m still here, Caliban-like, paralyzed in my fear of abandonment. If ever there was a good time for supernatural intervention, this might be it.

Yet all I can think of is Layne Staley and how he might have looked when they found him and stories of disemboweled pregnant women from the Hyderabad riots of the early 90’s. This is a downward spiral, maybe some tea, a cigarette, a book and Chick Corea and his Elektric Band to the Stars will help.