Poem read at Weeds 3-9-09 "Messed Up on a Friday"

Messed Up on a Friday

Messed up. Took my night meds in the morning because I was tired and in a hurry and didn't know what the fuck I was doing and was trying to blend a protein shake into yesterday's cold coffee, but it wouldn't dissolve so I tried the electric hand mixer and then the Cuisinart. And then it worked but it took too long and then I was worried the night meds would make me sleepy or act high during the day and I had to stand up all day and be nice to people and act like I cared when I just wanted to be in bed masturbating and sleeping.

Messed up. Told him I liked him when I know I should play aloof, like I don't care and I'd be so much better off if I didn't care. How I hate being in love. It makes me crazy and sick, mesmerized by erotic daydreams. I have to pick and poke at it like I'm trying to pop a zit, like getting all the built up white pus out of there will make it better, but it just makes me feel wounded and ugly and then I have to wait for it to heal, washing it over and over again, covering it with makeup.

Messed up. Told my boss what I thought. How am I supposed to avoid expressing any opinion at all while at the same time appearing to have opinions and good ideas and insights to show that I'm a valuable team player, but not a real person with an actual point of view? Someone tell me, please. Maybe I'm just not a good actress. But it's just that saying things I don't believe makes me confused. I can hear people inside my head contradicting everything I say as I'm saying it. Sadistic stereo, demonic radio, rapist TV.

Messed up. Believed what I was told, because, really, constant skepticism and cynicism is exhausting, not to mention depressing and soul-destroying. On the other hand, being a sap, a dupe, a sucker isn't fun either, because when the sham is exposed or the gimmick doesn't work or you're worse off than before, you think somehow that you're responsible, that you should have know better, been smarter, shrewder, on the lookout for con artists. But you just wanted to believe that something good could happen.