(no subject)
I am not real. I am a character.
An illusion much like all the people in my world
which all become symbols for everything that
maybe ill live through at some point.
But ill be honest and claim i dont live
for myself anyway. I live through the
illusion of others. And nothing fits better
than the water and the tree and the grass and
the solitude.
of never having to answer to anyone
or close the blinds while i dance.
Im still too afraid to be alive
so i lie compulsively so my life doesnt
seen as though its part of this place.
This routine ive become a hinge in.
I despise it and you and all of you
but i need you all.
And maybe i need this too. To help me get there
to help me skip across the rooftops of all the experiences
in life and do it gracefully like some kind of psuedo ballerina.
This shirt doesnt fit me anymore and neither do my shoes
and the fucking hat was too small to begin with.
When i leave, i cant have anything to bring me back
nothing, not even the paths ive made in the dirt because
those will all end up in the river anyway.
Mother nature never goes back, She just progresses, changes
falls into the river and becomes part of something new and eternal again,
And i shall do the same. I am now mother nature.
In this state of mind which doesnt stay too long except when intrigued.
A flame to the men who will never look good in your eyes.
I have become accustomed to my mortality and
for all intensive purposes.
I am dead.
An illusion much like all the people in my world
which all become symbols for everything that
maybe ill live through at some point.
But ill be honest and claim i dont live
for myself anyway. I live through the
illusion of others. And nothing fits better
than the water and the tree and the grass and
the solitude.
of never having to answer to anyone
or close the blinds while i dance.
Im still too afraid to be alive
so i lie compulsively so my life doesnt
seen as though its part of this place.
This routine ive become a hinge in.
I despise it and you and all of you
but i need you all.
And maybe i need this too. To help me get there
to help me skip across the rooftops of all the experiences
in life and do it gracefully like some kind of psuedo ballerina.
This shirt doesnt fit me anymore and neither do my shoes
and the fucking hat was too small to begin with.
When i leave, i cant have anything to bring me back
nothing, not even the paths ive made in the dirt because
those will all end up in the river anyway.
Mother nature never goes back, She just progresses, changes
falls into the river and becomes part of something new and eternal again,
And i shall do the same. I am now mother nature.
In this state of mind which doesnt stay too long except when intrigued.
A flame to the men who will never look good in your eyes.
I have become accustomed to my mortality and
for all intensive purposes.
I am dead.