...which is to say, fucked up!

down and down we go, further spiraling into darkness with no light in sight.

you know, all of us have in our minds the good voices and the evil voices. sometimes i don't know which is which. i only know that it's much better to hear the evil voice than to actually follow through with what it says. that voice that says to jump from high places, run through glass doors, bang my head against the wall, leave people stranded, break hearts, etc. sometimes, the voices talk to each other and i overhear the conversation. the evil voice throws in sarcastic lines and doubts everything--quite a cynical fucker that one is. the evil one lives by a "1 strike and you're out" sort of credo. it's a quite detrimental philosophy if you want any sort of lasting relationship given that humans are imperfect.

maybe there are more than one good and one evil voice. if so, i was able to silence a few and hush the rest. but they won't be hushed forever. they are relearning how to speak and gaining strength. while they were being hushed, while they were being silenced, i gained the foundations of self-esteem and self-worth that others seemed to have but i had not. armed with this new facet of ego, the evil voices altered from sadistic to masochistic. although the volume of the voices was not overbearing, they were still penetrating through. hush hush sweet charlotte! silence the little lambs! and quiet they became. for a moment. for 1 year? time is immeasurable. they are back this year. with rekindled tongues they speak vehemently of their desires. they persist and wait to see when i will listen.

i haven't the faintest idea of what the future holds. of who will speak and who will listen. i only know that things cannot remain the same and i cannot physically run from what is physically not there. although when i was younger i believed that part of it was LA itself. how funny that the voices gain strength whenever i return. perhaps it is simply that home is a demon to many. or at least to me.