- Going Crazy in the Suburbs 09: -
                             "Teach Me to be Happy"
                                    by Hairy

                               hypnotized stares

                               took some time off
                             absent without leave,
                                  so to speak
                           this sickness always stays

                              lips that won't work

                                  how are you?

                                why am i here..
                                 in this swine?

                                  abysmal time

                                  do you fear?
                                fear the future
                                   like i do?

                                  stale poetry
                                rooted in drink
                           intoxication and escapism

                                 mirror my soul
                           disintegrating reflections
                                  bad posture
                                   weak smile

                                    "tell me
                                    tell me
                             what am i doing here?"


                                 nothing to say
                                 nothing to do

                              "you're beautiful,"
                              they keep telling me
                              when will i believe?
                    maybe when someone foreign recognizes it
                                   some beast
                               i've not yet tamed

                               i'm not beautiful
                             or anything inbetween
                             i'm just stale expanse
                                  dead weight

                                   change me
                                   correct me
                                 fill this void
                          make me something worthwhile
                               something tangible
                            take me away from myself
                              from all this grief

                             "teach me to be happy"


my hand is healing. yay. your tongue is probably healing much faster,
but i'm going to try and not be jealous about that. everyone responds
with the same stupid, "didn't that hurt" response. of course it fucking
hurt, you asshole. i mean, how can you poke a large piece of stainless
steel through yourself without it hurting a smidge?

i'm standing at work and jill's presence is annoying me again..

while we're trading interesting facts, i only write to you, period.
nobody else is interesting (or should that be read, "intelligent"?)
enough to write to. besides, i've kind of gotten used to you. i'd hate
to go back through all that "getting to know someone" nonsense.

i'm going to siouxsie with nancy, so i'd better see you there. i don't
care what sort of strings you have to pull, i will see you there, or
else. i want a hug, so.. so there.

i've only driven up to see nancy maybe four times in the past month.
it's an annoying drive, and she never lets me leave. i've thought about
driving over to visit you for awhile, but it's really out of the way.
i'd end up driving 45 minutes south of her to get on 287, and then off
to you. i should look at a map some day and find a quicker route, i'm
sure there is one.

july 27th, yes. i forgot your birthday, too, so don't feel bad or
anything. i could dig back through all those letters and find it, but i
figured i'd just ask again..

la, la, la. joy division at work. how.. cheerful.

hope your mother didn't give you hell over the tongue. my parents seem
fairly accepting. they looked at my hand, told me how disgusting it was,
and then told me all about how it was my body and how i could mangle it
however i saw fit.

nancy and i have never "made love". well, atleast not in my observation.
we've "fucked", because fucking is cold and meaningless. we've maybe
"had sex" a few times, assuming sex is a step up from ""fucking". we're
not very sexually compatible, i don't think. maybe we'll work at it, who
knows. who cares?

jill and i, now.. that was "compatible".. (sob, sob.)

tom is 24 and he's a bigger baby than i am. sorry, i don't know him very
well, but just from observation.. the guy needs to grow up. his whole
life is stuck in that "high school gossip" stage, and it's bothering the
shit out of me. i'm above all this "he said, she said" trash, and i'm
tired of him dragging me down into it. i already feel like there are a
million pairs of eyes staring at me when i go out at night, i don't need
to stand there and wonder what tom has told all of those people about

actually, i guess i should rather enjoy it. he's probably giving me more
of a mysterious air. but, i hate people. waaaaaaaaaaaaaa. all these
conflicts in my life..

this isn't much of a letter, i'm sorry.


hello -

nancy doesn't read your letters, don't worry. she read a bit that i
showed her, and nothing more..

she's not that kind of a person.

hello -

my parents just "got rid" of our cat. what this means is that the animal
we've lived with (and loved) for two years is now on "death row" in a
pound somewhere. thanks, folks, i didn't even get a say in the matter..
thanks, folks, i didn't even get a chance to say "bye"..

hello -

i'm sitting at work on my day off typing things at you.

hello -

hand is healing well.

hello -

nancy & i don't hate each other or anything. we're fairly affectionate.
it's just that we had both forgotten what concerts were like, and the
siouxsie show wasn't terribly enjoyable. too hot, too crowded, too
nasty. too overpriced. too many "straights". too many rude people.

not to say it was all bad or anything, but i don't get very excited
about.. well, anything. seeing siouxsie swing her chest (were those
real?) around stage didn't really make me swoon.. (i could have sworn
she was flatchested at one point in her life..)

hello -

maybe someday we can get together and do something, sure.

teli was a virgin for some twenty years before the spanish 'encounter'
at the limelight.

there are things i should be doing besides this, but i don't care enough
to do them.

we didn't go to the bank that friday after the show, we went back to her
house and slept.

the following saturday, though, we did go out to the batcave. (first
time i'd been there.) we drank about $40, and had a merry old time.
nancy met some stripper called "keisha hell" and 'put the moves' on her.
i ended up meeting somebody named "laura mccutchen" who works the coat
check there. she grew up around here, and i met her through some mutual
friend. strange to see another goth from the sticks.. she's going to
some art school in the city, so i guess she's evolved out of this place.

this font annoys me.

i don't write by hand because it's ugly, it takes too long, and it gives
my hand cramps.

not to say this font isn't ugly, but at least it's consistent.

 hello -

the bank isn't that bad, it's just tom and all of his "lil' buddies"
that put me off on the place now.

we're probably going to some new joint called "east berlin" this friday.
they were handing out passes at the siouxsie show.. something tells me
it's going to be a really cheesy bar, but who knows.

hello -

thanks for the hug.


                            drunk in a strange place
                                eye watching me

                                    feel it
                                   feel that



multiple choice. please circle your answer.

1. m hasn't written because..
        a.) she has finals and is very busy.
        b.) justin has offended her unknowingly.
        c.) chet is around and she's basking in love & joy.

2. justin hasn't written until now because..
        a.) he's been busy.
        b.) he's been thoughtless.
        c.) he's been going out to clubs and drinking too much.

3. nancy and justin will most probably..
        a.) break up and hate each other.
        b.) break up and be somewhat friendly.
        c.) all of the above. (?!?)

4. justin will read that "incredible lightness of being" book..
        a.) next week.
        b.) next month.
        c.) next year.

5. jill annoys justin..
        a.) sometimes.
        b.) all the time.
        c.) so much he wants to hurl her off a great big fucking cliff and
            watch her twisted mutilated carcass careen into trees and
            outcroppings during its slow and agonizing decent into a swirling
            river of piss.
        d.) (other, please explain.)___________________________________________

6. justin met someone this past tuesday who..
        a.) looked just like m from across the balcony of the limelight, but
            obviously wasn't when he got close enough to see.
        b.) was a complete airhead.
        c.) was less than 17 years old.

7. the limelight is..
        a.) overpriced for admission.
        b.) overpriced for drinks.
        c.) installing tackier and tackier decorations.
        d.) painting the walls white (!) and putting goth in that quiet
            little room down by the coatcheck, where is just DOES NOT belong.
        e.) all of the above. 8. justin is..
        a.) at work.
        b.) bored.
        c.) broke.
        d.) in debt.
        e.) fed up with his job.
        f.) thinking about applying to stevens, getting lots of financial
            aid, studying something he doesn't care about, living on campus,
            joining a frat, and having keg parties.

9. in the past two weeks or so, justin has met..
        a.) natalie.
        b.) laura.
        c.) kate.
        d.) tracy.
        e.) that russian girl, the one he forgot to get the name of.

10. of the above, justin is interested in..
        a.) none of the above.
        b.) none of the above.
        c.) even less than none of the above.

11. this test is..
        a.) long-winded.
        b.) tedious.
        c.) a welcome change from all that shitty "i'm so miserable" poetry
            that justin writes when he's sitting around in a stupor.

12. "east berlin" @ robots on ave.b is..
        a.) small.
        b.) comfortable.
        c.) climate controlled.
        d.) free before 11pm on fridays.
        e.) home of dj patrick, and other people who play decent things.
        f.) hopefully not the new hangout spot for tom & co.

13. m is..
        a.) amused at this new and interesting form of communication.
        b.) worried about her score.
        c.) making little snorty noises because she's laughing so hard.
        d.) contemplating suicide to escape this new and grueling form of

14. essay question.
        on a sperate sheet of paper,describe in detail the past fourteen days
of your life. leave no  aspect of this time unmentioned. when
completed, return for scoring to:  hairy@pms.metronj.org


                            another entertaining day
                            the world whirls around
                                   and around
                             in some mythical haze

                        i don't even know what day it is
                                   day it was

                         what difference would it make
                          more stale bloated memories
                          more dead flesh in the dark

                             where'd that girl go?
                                   the other
                                the one i killed
                             extinguished in snarls
                               and glares of hate

                           what have you done to her?
                           what have you done to her?

                          blurred by smoke and emotion
                                    no clue
                                    no hope
                                   no desire


when you live day to day, nothing matters. everything you're
experiencing now will be nothing more than stale, bloated memory, grayed
out by the emotionless decay of time. images hashed to bits within a few
blinks - soon forgotten, soon meaningless. love, hate, pain, pleasure..
all forgotten soon enough. the reality of "now" is completely empty,
completely absurd. you'll close your eyes and stare back at all of the
things that used to be so important, and you won't even care. living
will become a cycle of eating, sleeping, filling the conscious hours
however possible.

"i wonder how to kill the hours.."

you can replay fragmented dreams of delirium, hopeless escapes into
happiness, but in the end you will know - this is all superficial, this
is all unimportant. it did happen, it might have happened, it never
happened. what difference does it make? bulk storage capacity yields no
emotional response. pick and choose between frayed bits of dreams,
strands of a long-forgotten reality that you hold dear.

"i close my eyes, i realize, i have become quite tranquilized."

life will be a drug induced haze - - acid dreams and the haunting
memories. life will cease to be life. it will devolve into performance
for those lesser-than, those lacking in vision. those with a vision of
time unlike your own. to them, this is really happening. to them, it
makes some sort of a difference. they don't realize, they fail to
comprehend. this is hallucination, nothing more. you will cease to feel,
you will cease to care. it's the only way.

"who knows, who cares, who'll remember anyway?"


                            life in an alcohol haze
                            stale pinched bitterness
                              my own private void

                                 can't remember
                                 can't remember

                             vomited souls emerging
                                 giggling hell

                                    "see me
                                    feel me
                                    touch me
                                    heal me"

                           big words lacking meaning
                            tired, worn out phrases
                               numbing isolation
                                   ad nauseam

                             just shut up and fuck
                                shut up and fuck
                                shut up and fuck


                      pseudo-intellectual bullshit poetry
                       empty verses kept alive on hot air

                        trying to live up to aspirations
                          missing rungs on the ladder
                                  tripping up
                                 tripping down

                      alcoholism and regurgitated thoughts
                                 over and over
                                 over and over
                      some detached strobing puzzle piece
                              twisting in my head

                           i can never find the words
                             never find the meaning
                                   the escape

                                  cold stares
                             nausea in the morning
                               where does it end?


                                can you see me?
                         see this frightened little boy
                              hiding behind tears
                                  false lives
                                hopeless dreams

                                    see me?
                        see me crying out from isolation
                    from this never-ending spiral downwards

                           everything i've ever known
                                has washed away
                           everything i've ever loved
                                 i've butchered

                           i split apart at the seams
                             crying out for anyone
                             to take this pain away
                              make me whole again

                               just make it stop

                                     a clue
                                     a tool
                            something to hold on to


                                 just one thing
                                    just one
                        that won't slip away in the dawn
                  something that won't corrode in the daylight



nancy's doing things to annoy me. i've no idea why, i guess it's just
happening - but it bothers me.

i'd go into details, but i'd rather just put it out of my mind.

took the ring out of my hand. i (apparently?) picked up something heavy,
and the top hole tore a bit. it formed a flap of skin that i could pick
up and look into my hand with. much unpleasantness. lots of bleeding. i
let it go for a week or so to see what it was going to do, and it wasn't
getting any better.

so - out it comes.

met some girl named - hahahahaha - named jill.. although she's more
woman than girl, being 28. she seems a nice person. let's try and be
friends, and nothing more.

got your letter.
got your postcard.

austin certainly doesn't look very "awesome."


not much to say.

my fingernails slow my typing to a fucking crawl.

stole a $1500 computer system (which i'm using now) from teli's college.
just walked in and took it. wheeeeeeeee.

so, i'm a horrible person. what else is new?

i met this new & improved jill (hereafter referred to as jill^2) at the
limelight some weeks ago. actually, teli met her. he was drunk and
looking for girls to annoy. so, he annoyed her. it was closing time, and
i went to fetch him so that i could get the hell out of there. she
recognized me from the bank. how nice. anyway - somehow or other, teli
got her e-mail address. i've no idea how "the information superhighway"
came up in their conversation, but it did. at any rate, she schools at
columbia. i got drunk the other night and wrote her a few pages of
filth, sent it to her school's mail address. she wrote back. etc, etc.

how entertaining this all seems.

what the hell would i do with a 28 year old, anyway? talk about the


                         repeating meaningless gestures
                                 over and over
                               around and around

                                the end result -
                            this nagging stagnation

                                   black and
                           i glare out from disgrace

                               blinks and stares
                            rattling the cage's bars
                                what's the point
                                 of this action
                                  or that one
                                  or anything?

                               blank spaces where
                             memories used to live
                             erased through alcohol
                        through the starvation for touch
                      and the tired search for compassion

                                there is no end
                                to this madness


                              falling apart again
                           feeling it washing over me
                                 like the tide
                           washing away all feelings
                                  of happiness
                              everything there is
                                  to hold dear
                                leaving me empty
                               barren and scared
                           barren and scared to death

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