words... don't add up
numbers add up

things are everywhere.
everything is something.
everything has something. but not everything has someone.

its hard to distinguish between things, to seperate things.
i'm in a soup of thoughts, feelings and things, and words.

smoking used to help.
for a long time smoking made my life bearable.
i gave up smoking because i could'nt do it enough. i could'nt smoke enough.
it was never enough. i wanted to smoke all the time, to breathe in all the time, but i could'nt - not in the shower, not when i was talking, not when i was eating.
i wanted something i could do all the time.
NOT smoking, that was something i could do all the time.

maybe working is trying, and work - the result of work - is everything that one tries to do.

sometimes people say: "what the fuck do you think you're doing? thats not work"

i say: "fuck off, assholes!"

Assholes.... they are something to get excited about, something to work for.


work is a fight against loneliness, against low self esteem, against depression, and against staying in bed. sometimes my self esteem is so low that i cannot reach it even when i'm feeling down.

i want to be on my own, but i don't want to be alone.

work is everything. i think. everything is work.

so... everything, apart from being dead. living...

i don't know how anyone can do it.
how can anyone get through it?
i can see why people hide
i can see why people commit suicide.

if you're lonely,
if you're sad,
if you're lovely,
if you're mad,

Then this is for you.