breaking myself down.
A little over 24 hours in a confined mobile space over the course of a week, mostly without company or a radio, is as good a time as any to break yourself into little pieces and examine yourself to find what you are truly made of.
Of course, you can lie just as well as any other person, convince yourself of all the little things you know to be false, just to make any action or any rationalization feel satisfying. In the end, you don't really know your own bullshit from anyone else's, and maybe it's better that way.
they will see us waving from such great
heights, "come down now," they'll say
but everything looks perfect from far away,
"come down now," but we'll stay...
Too much time to chip away the pretty little pieces, and all that's left is the base, nothing to see here but confusion and ugliness, move along please, watch the gap.
There are some places that you just feel comfortable, places where you can fall asleep unnoticed or undisturbed, sitting with a person capable of staying in complete silence with you, or curled up in your own skin remembering to forget everything that hurts. I lose another comfortable place every day, my ability to sleep has completely dissolved. I find comfort in the two hours or so that I attain three hours after I intend to fall asleep.
In the end, driving 95 down a road surrounded by planes waiting to take everyone but me half way away from what's real, listening to a few years of my life that I can remember the lyrics, but not the days of, louder than I could scream, but not feel, remembering days I didn't want to and times and I had forgotten, I realized that there truly is a time and a place for everything, and I'm lying somewhere completely out of context.
Of course, you can lie just as well as any other person, convince yourself of all the little things you know to be false, just to make any action or any rationalization feel satisfying. In the end, you don't really know your own bullshit from anyone else's, and maybe it's better that way.
they will see us waving from such great
heights, "come down now," they'll say
but everything looks perfect from far away,
"come down now," but we'll stay...
Too much time to chip away the pretty little pieces, and all that's left is the base, nothing to see here but confusion and ugliness, move along please, watch the gap.
There are some places that you just feel comfortable, places where you can fall asleep unnoticed or undisturbed, sitting with a person capable of staying in complete silence with you, or curled up in your own skin remembering to forget everything that hurts. I lose another comfortable place every day, my ability to sleep has completely dissolved. I find comfort in the two hours or so that I attain three hours after I intend to fall asleep.
In the end, driving 95 down a road surrounded by planes waiting to take everyone but me half way away from what's real, listening to a few years of my life that I can remember the lyrics, but not the days of, louder than I could scream, but not feel, remembering days I didn't want to and times and I had forgotten, I realized that there truly is a time and a place for everything, and I'm lying somewhere completely out of context.