xoxo, nico

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

what if we are all accidents and the only compassion we get comes from reasons beyond our control. i knew it was a mistake to let you take it away but i never thought it could get thrown back in my face. this is no longer a friendship because you turned it into a business in a fraction of a second. i saved you hundreds of notes and it took threats to get you to return what you said your dog named dylan broke. its all good though i’ll take the blame and make it all my fault because i don’t know i suppose its karma that’s come back to haunt me because i didn’t deserve what was served on the silver platter two hours before i pawned it. the problem with this economy is that everyone believes they should get something for free like they’re entitled to it and then here we all are wondering what the future holds and pretend we can figure out whats going to happen. i’ve always thought that if i did have millions it would be a dying shame if i couldn’t spend all of it in one day on things that make the people i live for win the game.

all we can remember is what tore us both us apart instead of what’s forgotten at the bottom of our hearts…smiles filled the silences and laughter filled the sound and everyday was more important when you were around…

loss is uncontrolled and that is what makes it so aggressively painful.