More-bid.

I wake up sweaty and filled with sorrow,pain,and anxiety.
I sleep restlessly and toss and turn.
I eat tiny bird bites and curse the wear and tear on my pterygoids.
Life doesnt make much sense any more, it feels like im an observer instead of a participant.
Comfort and joy are a distant candy on the counter and im the too short child who is on his tippy toes trying desperately to reach it but the closest I can get to it is with the very tip of my finger which ends up just pushing it further out of my grasp. I know through time and patience I can reach those things (comfort,joy), but the frustration of it being totally unreachable right now is heart wrenching.
The seconds where it all melts away and I feel strong are such teases. They are such stark opposites of the constant tension my body feels when I hear the footsteps, voice, and rustling of a lost love moving on in rooms adjacent. The desire to burst out of my room and interact is so overwhelming but the knowledge that distance is the only real medicine is a horsepill and I have strep throat and no water.
The lessons of learning how to make your heart beat pure are roads less traveled that run up hillsides made of ice.
Its wearing me thin. I am doing everything i can to make this better and its just not. The longing, the sadness, the pain, the exhaustion, its leading me to a dark place and its growing daily.
The hands that used to desire to make music now shake like michael j fox in an earthquake. They shake all the time. They shake when i sleep, they shake more when i wake, then shake when i talk, shake when i lift another cigarette i dont really want to my lips in the hope that it will calm myself. They shake when I pry open my bottle of sleeping pills and hope that they will let me at least get a few hours of synthetic rest. They shake when I stare endlessly at my phone wishing that the five letters of a name I long for will pop up with something great but im nothing but 10 numbers in their cell phone. Not even a name.
Where it gets supremely scary is that I know who I am for the most part more than I ever have, so why is it the most uncomfortable and the least at peace ive ever been?
Lights are harsher than they have ever been. Everything reflects differently.
Puddles under stop lights look like laser beams from pink floyds stage show.
We talk about life and how finding the good is so important and i believe it because im smart enough to know its true. so i went and hung with friends last night to try and shake the desire to just lay and watch nothing blankely again.it was a nice experience but again a distant one. I sat and watched police shows and laughed about robes and talked about records but alas the whole time my mind was elsewhere,nowhere,and deeply scared. I want to start laughing again in a way that doesnt feel like im half acting, I want to find the good in my days but struggle knowing how sad and empty my nights feel, alone in my thoughts,overactive imagination,deep desire to share my growth, the longing for a love that my mistakes destroyed, the wish for a shared happiness, the fear of a future that i know nothing of. I dont breathe out softly anymore. My bed doesnt ever get warm. My hands dont stop shaking. I feel homeless at home.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1u-2EalfAyU
I dont even fucking know anymore.
Fuck it.