Green-Eyed Hate
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My jealousy doesn't center around any one person. It can't - there are simply too many of the others to hate. It's always a -type- of person. Hatred does center around -things-. I hate my television, my computer, and most of all my phone. I hate my mirror, my refrigerator, and my big fat clothes. I hate my video game systems and all of the shiney little disks that make them interesting... More interesting than me. Sometimes I feel like I live alone or that I live in this shell of ugliness that I find it impossible to sloff. I feel like I'm isolated in a big clear bubble that isn't there to protect me, it's there to keep me in and crush me with too much of my own recycled breath. It's there to make sure no one else sees what's inside even though they're looking straight at it. I wish I were short, skinny, breastless, and 15 with short hair and a drug addiction. I wish I were my height, my age, without a beard and an excess of poundage. I wish sometimes that I were anything but what I am... Anything that is interesting. I have an ugliness that make-up can't hide. A dirtiness that showering won't wash from me. At times I'm so full of this green-eyed hate that I can't enjoy the simple things, the true things, the REAL things. Some days it all happens up there in my head and I can't tell the difference. Some days I just want anything to happen. Most of the time I feel guilty for wanting, but I still claw at everything that approaches me to get just exactly what I want... But I never do. It seems like I do sometimes, but then it only feels like a lie or a temporary justice. [B.R.E.A.K] (1-31-02) |
