apple shampoo

on the side of my bathtub there's a two year old bottle of V05 apple shampoo. i haven't used it in just under that two years, yet there it sits. theres a rotting remenant of a label, the kind they print out and stick on all of your stuff when you're in the psych ward, you can't read what it used to say. theres a marble composition book in some box, and the first line of an entry says something about it...i can't find it...i dont' know what notebook it was in or where it said it...it was like "apple shampoo and sex will always be andy to me.." one of those has faded...sex became something to pass the time, something like cutting, something that creates extreme feeling to make sure i'm still alive, even though i'm not more alive now than i was two years ago today. along the way i became really good at the whole sex thing...probably too good, because i have an ego that almost makes me sick to my stomach. but that apple shampoo will always be andy, and it'll always sit there and make me think of him, and i'll never use it, because then i'll smell like ray and i won't be able to hack it...this rambling isn't something you're supposed to understand, but i had to do it...i haven't talked to my mom in over a month now, and in a week it'll be 2 years since she told me she didn't want me anymore, and it still bothers me, because now she doesn't even acknowledge that i exist unless its convient for her, and it barely ever is. part of me misses her, but i won't call, because i'm so close to that bad place right now, and if i do it i want to feel what it feels like to not know, to not hear goodbye. i've posted twice in one day...i've been in the mood to write lately, its like the sickness inside of me that i can't get to go away.