Mm what you say?
Hello again, LJ.
It seems that as soon as I find the perfect escape from doubting myself I am faced with the task of being alone all night. It is at this point that I do not doubt myself, but my relationships with the people I used to love oh so much.
I have felt strangled all night long with the nostalgia extracted from every single note of the song that has been on repeat since I started my endeavor to the Rock Town of the Past. The past in hindsight sways to these lyrics at a more lonesome frequency. At every turn I take in this Town nestled so deep in my emotions I feel the pang!, pang!, pang! of loss, regret, hope--dying memories.
I cannot relate to my father anymore. I fear as though I cannot talk to my father anymore. All we do is throw around random favors that we make each other feel obligated to fulfill. I do not see the love in his eyes anymore. All I see is the disapointment; the anger; the defeat; the death. I have killed my father by not being his prodigal son.
I am tired of drinking and smoking myself stupid...but I desperately want to at this moment. All I can think of is defeat and disappointment and failure. All I want to do is sit in bed, smoke a bowl, drink a beer while smoking a cigarette, and listen to this lullaby that takes the past week of my life and places it in a gold frame on the mantlepiece like the trophy I could never win my fraternal love with.
But, you are cheering me up as I write. Just seeing your sentences in that little box highlights my night that is so close to over.
Let's be like sleeping beauty and sleep and never wake up. It does not take the same bed for us to sleep alongside one another.
This town is too distant to stand. It is trying to make me forget happiness.
Haha, it has no chance. There is too much happiness in my face to ignore.
Goodnight, moon.
It seems that as soon as I find the perfect escape from doubting myself I am faced with the task of being alone all night. It is at this point that I do not doubt myself, but my relationships with the people I used to love oh so much.
I have felt strangled all night long with the nostalgia extracted from every single note of the song that has been on repeat since I started my endeavor to the Rock Town of the Past. The past in hindsight sways to these lyrics at a more lonesome frequency. At every turn I take in this Town nestled so deep in my emotions I feel the pang!, pang!, pang! of loss, regret, hope--dying memories.
I cannot relate to my father anymore. I fear as though I cannot talk to my father anymore. All we do is throw around random favors that we make each other feel obligated to fulfill. I do not see the love in his eyes anymore. All I see is the disapointment; the anger; the defeat; the death. I have killed my father by not being his prodigal son.
I am tired of drinking and smoking myself stupid...but I desperately want to at this moment. All I can think of is defeat and disappointment and failure. All I want to do is sit in bed, smoke a bowl, drink a beer while smoking a cigarette, and listen to this lullaby that takes the past week of my life and places it in a gold frame on the mantlepiece like the trophy I could never win my fraternal love with.
But, you are cheering me up as I write. Just seeing your sentences in that little box highlights my night that is so close to over.
Let's be like sleeping beauty and sleep and never wake up. It does not take the same bed for us to sleep alongside one another.
This town is too distant to stand. It is trying to make me forget happiness.
Haha, it has no chance. There is too much happiness in my face to ignore.
Goodnight, moon.