I write like a retard. I am a retard, maybe people are right, maybe I am just trying to find a bette
Theres a seductive concussion your heart has envisioned on my brain. The way it beats it abuses my brain. Creating potholes, not wrinkles, but potholes in my brain only to fill up with cerebreal fluid for you to play in. I am not learning, nor do I care.. I am feeling. Did you ever enjoy playing in the rain? Did you dance in it? What if these rain drops were tears? Would my brainstorm of ideas and confusion scare you indoors, retreating into your own mind? Dont go in, stay and play a game of tag with me.. dont fear the storm. We are and always have been candidates for confusions seduction. Semantics, in search of ways to recollect my mind, refile it, reorganize it so I am happy. My toy bucket isnt even half full anymore, there arent enough words for me to play with.. if this has happened now wont it happen again? I dont want to play with toys anymore.. I dont want metaphors.. i dont want fantasy, i want something real.
someone once said I had a first rate mind with 10th rate thoughts. where did the thoughts go? Sometimes I believe life is weary of me, writes me in different ways than others. Sometimes I am convinced to say "batman doesnt help me wet the bed" for no apprent reason. It is retarded.. people tell me to hold on, but what is there to hold onto when they go away? Id rather hold onto them.
someone once said I had a first rate mind with 10th rate thoughts. where did the thoughts go? Sometimes I believe life is weary of me, writes me in different ways than others. Sometimes I am convinced to say "batman doesnt help me wet the bed" for no apprent reason. It is retarded.. people tell me to hold on, but what is there to hold onto when they go away? Id rather hold onto them.