mordicai caeli (mordicai) wrote,
mordicai caeli

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what becomes of the broken hearted.

so, hunched over on the floor of the bathroom, watching my puke swirl in the toilet bowl as i flush it away? thats when i feel the most alive. thats what alive means to me. being a living thing repulses me. i could be charted up in an anatomy text book. i'm opposed to this exsistance. this isn't how its meant to be. i'm not supposed to be alone in my head. i'm supposed to have two more voices rattling in this think-box, & a rumbling horde filling in the backround tunes. i'm supposed to be recieving hivemind radio, living in plural. but i'm not. i read the chandogya upanishad just to keep from losing my mind. laying on the white tile & blue bathmat, i think about the story of the bastard son the brahmin says has not strayed from the truth. hinduism is the religion most like the pixies. fuck this. it feels like my life. & i hate my life above all.

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