"I cry.
I try.
I cry again.
I am the sympton of a disease that has not yet been diagnosed.
I am the prism of a shattered crystal* and the tears of a lamb. (NOTE: tidy this line up later.)
I am the rejection of the love of the many dnfnfficators.
I NEED MORE WORDS."
That's enough poetry for today, I decided. Damn I hate it when I run out of words. I should read the dictionary. Maybe lateer. What should I do now? I thought about looking out the window, but decided to slump forward with my head lying on the keyboard instead. PUN: the keys were depressed and so was I! The monitor was now only an inch from my head, rather than the usual foot or so. There was a time when I gave much thought to it slowly frying my brain, but it didn't concern me now. I don't actually HAVE a brain anyway, remember. Sorry, I shouldn't have said "remember" there - as I haven't told you about how I don't believe I have a brain yet - , it's just that I'm not a very good writer, so I just copy sentences I can remember from books and change the words to suit my needs. I think. I'm not sure how exactly I form sentences, to be honest. But the point is, I'm not very good at it. As you can no doubt tell. So you'll just have to bear with me. Or bare. Hmmph.
Did I shift tenses up there? Who cares. I don't care. I didn't care. Tee Hee!
I hate people who use "hmmph".
More frying.
A THOUGHT.
Type it right away? Or let it leave my head never to come back. It doesn't mean anything. But I can say it's supposed to be post modern irony. Most people don't know what that means anyway and the people who do know have stopped reading by now anyway. So I'll type it. Come on, get up. I don't want to start drooling on the keyboard again. There you (I) go! Gee, I hope I can remember it!!
"Man + WOmb = WOMan, GET IT!?"
That wasn't really worth typing. Or thinking. I wish you could stop yourself from thinking worthless things. But you'd have to think them first, then decide if they're worthless or not, THEN decide not to think them. But by that time you've already thought them.
I wish I hadn't just thought all of that.
More brain frying now.
Time for a short story Tolkien style story.
Gluggoglug was the youngest of seven children, each of his brothers more brave than the last, and many songs were sung of their renown in the Kingdom of Griggledog. But Gluggoglug (while not a bad man by any means) was a coward, as his father often reminded him. "How many dragons have YOU slayed?" he asked mockingly.
"None, sir," said the timid Gluggoglug.
"God I hate you," said his father and beat him to death slowly.
THE END!
Tolkien must be shaking in his boots and spinning in his grave at the same time. He was buried in his boots and he's shaking because there was an earthquake, you see.
Maybe I should try writing something for real. Nah, it would only end up sucking. Best not to try and then not to cry. SEE? I just linked back to my poem!
Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow. I hope not. At least if I feel bad I might angrily try to do something productive.
Maybe I'll go to bed. That's productive.
By the way, I don't believe I have a brain.
*It is a well known fact that every poem written by a depressive must contain the word "crystal". "Prism" is optional but advised.
(AUTHOR'S NOTE: After deciding to go to bed, I decided to type down everything that had happened since the start of today's attempt at poetry. Then kill myself. But I was too tired for the latter, so I lay awake for four hours crying instead. Then went to sleep. I'm writing this now, in my sleep. How, you ask? It's a narrative device, you fool! Actually, I wrote everything after "then kill myself" the next morning. That's called breaking the third wall. Or fouth. Or is that just in television? I don't know. I'd ask someone but I don't know anyone.
I'm so alone.
Wouldn't it be funny if eveyone skipped this alleged "author's note"? It's the best part! Tee Hee! I love saying "tee hee"! It's funny how - while I still know my life is worthless and I have no hope of it ever improving - I'm feeling better this morning. Does that make me "bi-polar"? Or just dumb? I didn't really try to write a poem by the way, I just needed away to start this pathetic stream of conscienceness missive. Again, I don't know if missive is an appropriate word to use here but...I'm so alone. Remember? I guess that's the point.
I wish I could remember more words.)
