xoxo, nico

there’s the mean time and then there’s the time being but in my world it just seems like time is just being mean to me. i ran out of it hours, days, weeks and months flashes ago. i wasted it all laying in bed waiting for you to come calling. i wonder if you heard what i did. i wonder if you care that i may as well be in a coffin or maybe you’re the one silently punishing me for my actions. go ahead and try to make me feel guilty. try to make me feel like i’m the one that did something wrong. guess what: i can justify anything i do in the blink of your eye and out of the corner of mine i’ll watch myself leaving; go on now, sneak out the back door but you can’t come after me when you’re sustained by the grip of the pour little heiress you picked when you decided to get even your with your instinct. its too late to say you’re sorry and it takes to much energy to hate being in the same time at the same place. you are to blame for the demons you swallow like the larva floating at the bottom of a tequila bottle.

well hello there best friend, aka sunshine. i will never unconditionally love anything the same way i love you and i don’t even care that you left me for digital. she’s pretty with so many more capabilities and a really nice body. i can’t even compete. it was like a slap in the face when i found out you developed a relationship with technology, i should have saw it coming. in an instant my life changed and now it will never be the same. i keep trying to convert but its so difficult. i can’t get over how much i think about you and how long i can stare at the memories i secretly keep in a hat box hidden underneath his box spring. our love has been and will forever be forbidden.

if we describe ourselves as “freelance” then why do any prospective employers think we want to work for free? its as if they take the literal meaning of the first part of this overly used compound word and use it to take advantage of any self-employed individual and demote them to “intern” with experience. ahha, craigslist.org, an invaluable resource to find people seeking valuable services free of charge; the revolution that caused the cost of creativity and diminishing day rates to drop along with the rest of an economy who’s rich get richer and poor get food stamps but starving-artists-looking-for-reputable-work get trade for print. its not their fault, the employer didn’t do it either but he could the accessory to blame for contracting the hobbyist who got a digital SLR for a retirement gift. obviously that guy knows how to set the dial at the little green square better than the intern fresh out of pratt buried under student loan debt but hungry enough to work for the stipend they’d get if the employer didn’t keep it in his pocket in exchange for yet another self-taught “talent” credit. its difficult not to let the big apple rot while you slave away for a corporate salary until the day your pension allows you to pay for the electronics you’ve always wanted. making it is not about the benefits, its about creating something out of nothing. if we are brave enough to live off our art then we should be proud to swallow our pride when we truly believe in any gig commissioned for free.

i wrote out my rent check and i have four whole dollars in my bank account. i’ve been broke for so long its turned into gangrene and they’ll have to amputate because the depth of this infection takes over everything even if there was a slight chance the wholes will heal. everything i had has shattered into a million pieces and whatever was priceless has been buried underneath a pile of needles.

free spirit costs a pretty penny. one out of seven of these accomplishments i claim had nothing to do with me. the reason why my name is attached to them comes directly from some random connection. the most valuable lesson i’ve learned is to keep the right people a far cry from the ones who pretend to have compassion. does anyone who claims i give too much away count for anything anyway??? they’re the one’s who will come running the next time i spiral into the depths of my disposition, maybe. they’re the ones who will sit at home catching up on tivo wondering why the fuck service is expensive.

stay tuned…

i interrupt people in mid-sentence. i don’t listen and i have the attention span of a kitten. drama always follows like a shadow that will most likely come tap tap tapping on my shoulder within a matter of minutes. its impossible to keep any distance between me and the man on the moon or a break any concentration away from too weak dreams. my imagination is a cuckoo clock hung on the wall who tricks each tock every second except two ticks wrong. i eat sleep and bleed curiosity and then stumble upon facts long after i forgot to stay tuned in to the hunt for the truth but this can be blamed on my own personal patients. the one who can afford to cover the cost is the mastermind behind the value so to him all i have to scream are the reasons why i find myself to be willing and able.

“how do you turn down the volume on your own personal-drama earphones and learn how to listen to other people? how do you jump off one moving train, marked YOURSELF, and jump onto a train moving in the opposite direction, marked EVERYBODY ELSE?” ~rob sheffield