Rinse Gently

"So lie to me
about sobriety
wild and child-like
12 steps could save me
if I was 11 steps away from the edge"

Sometimes I forget where the whole "JDespers" thing comes from. I forget why my mother even bothered having me. My productivity level is somewhere between cripple and a rubber stapler. Working at night depresses me, and ever since I quit doing drugs and drinking I can't find a reason to be happy. Writing made me happy, but now my head just takes up space on top of my shoulders. I'm dumb-muscle and obviously a victim. My "inner voice" is of a woman. I get these knots in my chest whenever anyone talks to me-- I'm trying so hard to force myself to be interested, but really nothing leaves me wanting to get out of bed anymore. I'm not depressed, I just can't bring myself to buy into all of this bullshit-- iphones and things I don't care about. I'm gonna move to shytown and fit right in. Or Phoenix-town and melt, or Portland and play music. I'm going to wake up tomorrow and be 40 still trying to write music-- like Bret Michaels or something embarassing.