A timekill to die for

Last night I tried to poison myself, not the suicidal kind of poisoning but just enough to sleep throughout this whole day. I failed. Plum wine, methadone and demerol. A blood red haze. In my dreams, Frank kissed my forehead and sang to me ( did I ever tell you about his voice? Its the most soothing sound I know) She is the sad one I’m a clown, Charlie Chaplin, Eva Braun ,She learned to smile, I bought her friends, It was the beginning of the end and I think he sang about me. For me.

I woke up feeling lonelier than ever. Amanda had left a message on my cell. She knows I wont return the call. It has nothing to do with love, its just my phobia. Much like what Freud felt about women. Keep them away for they are the devil. The fact that I own an iphone is so ironiC I wont even get into it. There will be a party, or lets call it a charity event, for lonely young hearts at her apartment tonight. No gifts, no fucking food and no singing she said. "If you dont come, Ill have you killed"

She's serious.

I still cant really focus my eyes, and my mind resembles a Pollock right now. So I have to sleep some more if Im going to make the far walk to her place. Or maybe I should take some more. Depends on what kind of night I want.

Poison is for professionals. Im an amateur. Always have been.

( Id love for you to email me today, if you're bored : Belleinarms@googlemail.com)