Nolan Bucsis

Nolan Bucsis Jun 2018

I have always.
Hated myself.

That's why I'm so surprised.
When other people like.
Me.

Nolan Bucsis Jun 2018

They seem to think.
That they're opinion on what was my real life.
Is actually it.
But, me in my ridiculous bravado.
My hyperbolic stories no one believes.
Am.
Telling.
The truth.

The memories never go away.
Except with.
A large dose.
Of drugs.

Nolan Bucsis Jun 2018

Some sort of therapy, or something.

It's good that my memory has been damaged.
Irrevocably from all the drugs I consumed.
It's perfect.
I can't even remember the things.
I just want to
Forget.

Nolan Bucsis Jun 2018

Normal, again

What's the point in this.
Self expression of miserable thoughts.
Tomorrow.
Is gone and now I recede into a never was.
Chasing delusions.
Running from life.
And maybe tomorrow.
It will get better.
And maybe tomorrow.
I'll be dead.

As though these sad songs mean anything other.
Than I'm back to being normal.
Depressed.
Listless.
And an utter.
Disappointment.

Up there in that distraction.
That unmedicated delirium.
I feel normal and curse the injustice.
When really.
All I am is bored.
And oh so severely.
Damaged.

With no self expression left.
But a blank stare and impulsive displays.
Of go away.
I don't want to human anymore.

Nolan Bucsis May 2018

Untitled

My fingers are stained that brown colour you only develop from chainsmoking yourself away from alive.
And blissfully.
Succinctly, into.
I'll be dead by tomorrow.

Nolan Bucsis May 2018

I got sad and starved myself

There's always a creeping terror.
Liminal time.
A sinking feeling of guilt.
Apprehensive self loathing
And, an urge to just recede.
Into that murmur at the edge of existence.
That lost place.
Some where as vacant as me.
Right now.
Somewhere I can float.
Free of my body.
Liberated from this melancholy
When my depression hits

Nolan Bucsis May 2018

An honest self examination of my faults.

And now, there's the sheer panic.
That I have nowhere else to go.
Nothing left to do but stare.
Vacantly out the window.

It's always a sudden shock.
It's always sharp and biting.

Yet,
All it is.
Is.

Just frantic fear at the realization.
I just.
Wasted.
My life.

Every moment spent.
Escaping from right now.

The pills are working and I have emotions.
But, not the ones I want.
Never the ones I want.