“Self Portrait” – © chriscondello 2013 – Conceptual Composition – Hamnett Way – Wilkinsburg, PA – Alley puddle… Mud… Food Coloring… And my reflection…
It’s 2 AM and sleep eludes me… Honestly… I don’t know how I ever sleep… I have gone 7 days without sleep or food… I’ve gone months without real rest… Shit… I’ve gone years without rest… The only difference now is the absence of opiates… I still can’t seem to shake the baggage…
Damn people… I’m really struggling…
Ups and downs like I’m constantly juggling…
The moment I stand I’m torn to the ground…
You chop me down without making a sound…
Five hundred and sixty five days clean…
Still not sure what they meant by serene…
I wish that I could unload these bags…
Even if it’s just my shitty used rags…
A hundred dollar camera… Decade old computer…
Tough to add value when you were just a junky user…
Resumes a joke… All my teeth are broke…
Writing this makes me want to cry and choke…
I need to find a place that I fit in…
A place where they will see past my grin…
A place where I can feel accepted…
Instead of feeling repeatedly rejected…
Until then… I’ll cover up with my hood…
Trying to find a medium that will be understood…
Took some time to look into school…
Met with roadblocks because I’m a felonious fool…
Someday I hope to find a way to make a dollar…
In industries dominated by brilliant fucking scholars…
Photography… Writing… Artistic behavior…
Doesn’t mean a thing unless your the lord our savior…
How can I compete against a CMU degree?..
I can’t…
I have to constantly remind myself I’ll be ok…
Suicide is not an option… I’d rather pray…
Pray to a god that doesn’t give a fuck about me…
Laughing at the broke guy writing about trees…
Empty wallet… Empty life… Another fucking joke…
Talking to plants… Perpetually broke…
What I lack in money… I make up in heart…
Praying for daylight… Another fresh start…
It doesn’t matter… I’ll just fuck it up…
Fill it up then spill the cup…
You make me painfully aware I have no value…
A sentiment that I was already aware…
I need to find my place on this earth…
A simple attempt to rationalize my birth…
I mean… You untied the noose around my neck…
I was happily dead during the Emergency check…
Why the fuck didn’t you leave me hang?..
Instead I’m here as a broken ass man…
I have the tracts to prove my stupid move…
Ten years spent in the heroin groove…
Try to get a job with that reference…
So tomorrow… I’ll take my cheap ass camera to work…
Till the earth with my broken pitch fork…
Dreaming… Believing my life will work out…
Believing there’s a reason I didn’t check out…
There has to be a place for me… I’m just not sure where to find it… Or… If it will find me…
Until then… I’ll keep on keeping on…
plant petunias and question everything – chriscondello
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