(no subject)
I am running out of room on my hard drive
thus I am forced to script my thoughts here in the open
I don't know how important it is that anyone read or comprehend what I write
maybe everyone is just hoping someone will relate
So many great people have been characterized as "ahead of their time"
I feel like I am the opposite
I don't fit in to the lifestyles of the millennium
My body yearns to do physical work
to take the time to bake bread and do wash by hand
we have too many luxuries and conveniences
we get pissed if someone doesn't answer their cell phone or call right back
I want to live in the 16th century in the hub of art
where wood and metal prevail over plastic and styrofoam
Everything feels toxic and full of lies
I'll be honest, I think dirty sex is unfufilling to the mind and soul
there are many things I bear witness to which push my comfort zone
Everyone is drunk, drugged, and horny
I used to think that what I said made a difference
now I feel like my words have less weight than air
I let a man open myself to things I didn't need to prove
But I have proven them unnecessarily and can't go back
I see signs and coincidences all around me
Listening to my gut is not an option, it is mandatory
No one can take blame, everyone chooses risk
I desire to sleep and wake up to Randal's green eyes and strong arms in the morning
But he is having an affair with Barcelona again this summer
She is a beautiful and persuasive lover
how can I compete with that
I sleep alone
thus I am forced to script my thoughts here in the open
I don't know how important it is that anyone read or comprehend what I write
maybe everyone is just hoping someone will relate
So many great people have been characterized as "ahead of their time"
I feel like I am the opposite
I don't fit in to the lifestyles of the millennium
My body yearns to do physical work
to take the time to bake bread and do wash by hand
we have too many luxuries and conveniences
we get pissed if someone doesn't answer their cell phone or call right back
I want to live in the 16th century in the hub of art
where wood and metal prevail over plastic and styrofoam
Everything feels toxic and full of lies
I'll be honest, I think dirty sex is unfufilling to the mind and soul
there are many things I bear witness to which push my comfort zone
Everyone is drunk, drugged, and horny
I used to think that what I said made a difference
now I feel like my words have less weight than air
I let a man open myself to things I didn't need to prove
But I have proven them unnecessarily and can't go back
I see signs and coincidences all around me
Listening to my gut is not an option, it is mandatory
No one can take blame, everyone chooses risk
I desire to sleep and wake up to Randal's green eyes and strong arms in the morning
But he is having an affair with Barcelona again this summer
She is a beautiful and persuasive lover
how can I compete with that
I sleep alone