I'm starting to think that I'm going crazy. And I mean, like, literally going crazy. The past couple of days at work, you know, I've just been out of my head or, maybe, way too in my head. Does that make sense? I feel like I haven't been able to focus on anything.
It feels like my brain is an ocean and I'm lost, you know? And for the past couple of years -- I don't know, anything, sure I'll have a beer -- I feel like I've been out of it you know. Slowly but surely losing my sanity.
It has a lot to do with these new relationships I'm making, definitely. And it's not an entirely negative thing, you know. I just don't know what to do. If I'm not totally fucking confused, I'm out of my goddamn mind, I have all this fucking energy and my hands start to shake. What am I supposed to do with that?
I mean, I guess weird pop-punk helps sometimes. It sort of channels all of this rage I got inside of me, you know? And I can just nod my head to it. I don't know. There are these, that sort of gets it:
I want to smash my face into that god damn radio, it may seem strange but these urges come and go. I'm seeing double now, I tell the truth in stereo. I don't say much and when I do it's not enough. I can taste the grief, feel that old anger bubble up, it makes it hard to breathe, it makes a case for throwing up...
So, like, well, fuck. I can't even talk about it -- I gotta sing a fucking song to you. I've got all of this energy balled up inside of me that I have to get out but I got nowhere to put it. It makes me feel like a fucking kid again. Like, I used to throw my fists into bricks until I started laughing -- yeah, this beer is fine, don't worry about it, thanks -- and I know that's messed up. I know that's unhealthy, at least I do now. So I don't do that anymore.
I know, I know, but you know? Fuck, that didn't make any sense. But I guess I'm just frustrated. I mean, I don't understand why they like me, you know I'm not used to that. People usually don't see me and say, hey, let's hang out all the time because you're a cool guy. Usually they say, it's nice knowing you, let me lie to you for a long time until you realize you're an idiot. No, they don't say that. But, come on, you know what I mean.
I don't know how else to explain it.
Alright, I'll try. You know that scene in Castaway with Tom Hanks. The dude finally decides he's going to leave that island -- yeah, I'll do a shot, sure, you're paying right? yeah, you are -- yeah, so he finally decides to leave that island and he brings his friend Wilson with him. But like you and I know Wilson is a fucking ball, right? But to him, it's his friend. His partner in crime but then the guy loses him, by accident. And he's sorry, so fucking sorry that Wilson is gone, you know?
That's how it is for me.
Wilson, to me, represents all of my good parts. Everything about me that's redeeming and great and whatever, you know? So, it's like I lost that a long time ago. It's gone. And no, no, no, you don't get to say that because you don't even really know me. Like, I know me the fucking best, right? So shut the fuck up for a second. Shut up. Shut up.
My mind is an ocean, right? Did I say that already? My mind is the Atlantic. But fucking bigger. And all the whales and shit, those are my thoughts and emotions and feelings, right? Fucking follow me here, please, for a second. You said you wanted to know me, so here we go. Tighten the fuck up.
I'm on a fucking raft, every single day. But instead of getting found or however that goddamn movie ends, I'm looking for Wilson. I'm looking for him 'cause I fucking need him, right? I'm not going to apologize and sit on this fake boat for the rest of my life. I'm constantly searching inside myself to find out what's wrong with me and why I can't be the way I want to be. That's what I'm trying to say, that's what's fucking me up. There's not a good goddamn thing about me but here we are, right?
Yeah, it's confusing. But what about life isn't fucking ridiculous?