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        .d""b.      impulse reality press no. 219 - at war with anada.
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     $$ $$                           "when not to care"
     $$ $$                      written by mykro_ekonomykz
     $$ $$                          released  10/10/02
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when not to care:

So I lost a girlfriend? Yeah, big deal, I mean she was only my first love. 
This is gonna sound so cliche, but you know what, she's really all I ever had
in my life. Really, I mean if you're reading this and you know me well 
enough, you'll know what I mean. I love her and I miss her. 

I'm like the biggest pessimist on earth. Ahhh, this article is already going
nowhere. My grammar is shoddy right now and I don't feel like putting 
everything in logical order...I don't even feel like using paragraph breaks,
but read it anyway. It might do something for you. 

She broke up with me...it hurt so much that I actually threw up three times
today. Everything I eat tastes like crap and I can't even drink something as
good as pink lemonade because my hands are shaky from what I guess could be
called the shock. That's not even anything compared to the headache and 
lingering-ass pain kept in the center of my chest. You ask, "damn, mykro, was
she really that important?" Yeah, man! She was. Because her being with me was
vital. Vital for me to care. Mostly, care about myself. I lay on the floor on
my stomach for about 35 minutes and listend to my heart. It reverberated over
and over through the floor that I rested on. It pounded out such a sad, 
pathetic and helpless beat. Like the beat of some incoherent toddler that was
messing around with a fisherprice toy piano trying to just make noise so he 
hear himself be annoying.

The pain was almost enough to make me tired, but I promised that I would try
to avoid sleep as much as I could. Just like that meth junkie rockin'-out in
that trailor park down town. Insomnia? No, I don't wanna sleep because I have
this habit of actually remembering mostly every single thing happened the day
before right when I wake up the next. I don't think I can stand to recap 
losing her...Ya know, I don't even know why she left in the first place. But
she wanted her space. I respect her so much and I do everything upon her 
request so I said, "okay, Tami...here is your space." Damn...see this article
means nothing, does it? I also told her that a moment enjoyed is not 
something wasted, so if you haven't enjoyed any time with me, just tell me so
I can leave you alone. I guess I suck. I don't know...son-of-a-bitch it hurts
to lose everyhing!!!

I'm beyond unhappy and I should take care of myself. But for what? Sorry, but
I'm not your normal 17-year- old boy that falls in and out of love. Dude, her
"love" served my whole purpose of actually wanting to exist. Exist for her...
and it probably sounds like I'm making it out to seem that I don't have shit 
to live for. I'm not saying that I do or don't. The point is that I don't 
want there to be shit anymore for me to make a choice whether I think I 
should or shouldn't have shit to live for. There is too much effort that has 
to go into dealing with things. I don't have the energy to deal. Not now, not
ever...

It just sucks to realize that I probably wont have anything in my life to 
enjoy. Atleast not enjoy something long enough for me to actually be 
perpetually happy for. My frown is too heavy to lift right now and I'm still
trying to decide whether if it's such a good idea to care about myself. I'm 
not sure who does care for me. Maybe, my parents? Yeah, I'm pretty sure they
do. But honestly, they've only made life hard for me and they don't even know
if they wanna put up a fight with life and me more than they should. I don't
wanna get them all burdened down with my problems because they look like they
might be good people. If not my parents, who else? I guess no one. And who 
cares? The same people that don't.

I hit rock bottom, y0! And although I could have encountered more problems 
before I actually did, I decided to take a shortcut and hit it before I would
have to endure more pain than I should have to face. It's cold here. Here at
rock bottom I mean. It's lonely, dark and smells like the scent of your (ex)
girlfriend, but it also smells like the sweat from your hardwork of working 
on trying to enjoy what ever else might be good in life. That is the density
difference in the fluids of life...A liquid that floats is lighter or less 
dense than a heavier or more dense liquid that sinks. The things here at rock
bottom level are really heavy and deep. 

No, I don't feel like killing myself. Actually I just wanna rot away. I want
to see just how far I can go on like this before it does come to an end. It's
only been 48 hours since we broke up and I already look like I've been on a 
nonstop two week roadtrip to Defcon or something. I smell bad. I took a 
shower a while ago. I didn't wash myself though, I just sat there crying and
hating myself for wasting water, such precious resources on such carbon-based
scum like myself. When I got out of the shower, I buffed the mirror with the
pink towel I used very effortlessly to dry myself with. That goddamned shade
of pink that covered the towel reminded me of how much of a little bitch I 
was. I looked into the 8-inch circle in diameter of buffed-away mirror fog 
and saw nothing but a history of depression and badtimes...those bad times, 
made me laugh. I guess the only thing that makes me happy now is laughing at
myself. Sitting back, seeing and wondering how long I'll last makes me ! la! 
ugh. I laugh because I know I probably wont last very long. You should 
probably do the same. 

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