(no subject)
A street-light fills the emptiness
With a melodramatic glow
A eulogy for dying feelings
All the feelings you'll never know
A walk, a trudge of sadness
No real care to call my own
The weight of the world I claim to hate
In space of the love I'd never show
A requiem for life not being lived
A postscript for things not done
An apology for crimes against this
This world's thread I've unspun
A car speeds away beside me
Whistling away it's mellow tune
A kind of critique of my behaviour
For doing things I think untrue
A broken bottle reflects the streetlamp
An indictment of my worlds' view
In its shattered own kind of beauty
The kind of beauty not old nor new
Hrmmm. Not sure where that came from.
It's hard to describe my mood... Angry, but passive... Sad, but rational.
It's hard not to resent people for applying a label to me, and dismissing anything I say as "Dave being Dave". I gave them all the ration in the world to create that label, and now I find I can't seem to skip around it as I'd have liked. It's my fault, but I'm trying to blame someone else for my own follies... I've built the stereotype around me of being intellectually bankrupt, and now I've come to regret it. I've tried to turn my life around a lot, and in a lot of ways I've done it, but now I can't get the respect of my peers that I so sorely want...
I've done all the things I told myself would make me feel better, but in truth I feel worse... Now I've got nothing I can pin all my problems on... At least before, I could blame something/someone else... But now I've got to do what I've been avoiding... I've got to look within.
Thank god I still have writing though... It's like an exorcism of pain, albeit short-term... It's cathartic to the degree I have trouble expressing how great it feels... Usually, this kind of escapism only comes in the form of narcotics, but this is free and doesn't hurt anyone. Gotta be happy about that.
Anyway, that's about all I can think of saying right now...
With a melodramatic glow
A eulogy for dying feelings
All the feelings you'll never know
A walk, a trudge of sadness
No real care to call my own
The weight of the world I claim to hate
In space of the love I'd never show
A requiem for life not being lived
A postscript for things not done
An apology for crimes against this
This world's thread I've unspun
A car speeds away beside me
Whistling away it's mellow tune
A kind of critique of my behaviour
For doing things I think untrue
A broken bottle reflects the streetlamp
An indictment of my worlds' view
In its shattered own kind of beauty
The kind of beauty not old nor new
Hrmmm. Not sure where that came from.
It's hard to describe my mood... Angry, but passive... Sad, but rational.
It's hard not to resent people for applying a label to me, and dismissing anything I say as "Dave being Dave". I gave them all the ration in the world to create that label, and now I find I can't seem to skip around it as I'd have liked. It's my fault, but I'm trying to blame someone else for my own follies... I've built the stereotype around me of being intellectually bankrupt, and now I've come to regret it. I've tried to turn my life around a lot, and in a lot of ways I've done it, but now I can't get the respect of my peers that I so sorely want...
I've done all the things I told myself would make me feel better, but in truth I feel worse... Now I've got nothing I can pin all my problems on... At least before, I could blame something/someone else... But now I've got to do what I've been avoiding... I've got to look within.
Thank god I still have writing though... It's like an exorcism of pain, albeit short-term... It's cathartic to the degree I have trouble expressing how great it feels... Usually, this kind of escapism only comes in the form of narcotics, but this is free and doesn't hurt anyone. Gotta be happy about that.
Anyway, that's about all I can think of saying right now...