(no subject)
In the utmost dronic deliquency I find her in my arms, and only in those nights with freshly emptied bottles is fear disposed of in lue of the possibilities that tempt us when sober. A wise man would have forfeited such hopes long ago, and even those with the slightest incling of common sense jumped ship years passed. However those such as I have long felt the need for a self destructive prophecy, and would rather die in our own arrogance than ever be proven wrong. Such a richly lit room is the mind of a man who not only has what he worked for, but the assertivness to push for what is deserved for him.
For the hours I have wasted moving, working, and sweating, I have only one thing I feel is deservedly mine. The rest of which surrounds me would gladly be traded in for such a prize, and the goal of yet to be accomplished is only such perseverance to live in such a mundane state of mind that I continually fight each day.
I guess if anything were to ever happen it should be the most breathtaking conversation. I listen to the lyrics of those who I supposedly identify with, and find myself awe inspired by such. However their weaknesses reveal within seconds that they sing only for themselves and share nothing in the larger pain as whole in humanity. Admirable and damnable such reasoning, however in their own hearts they only write for themselves and in only such writing can the true emotion be relinquished onto the bleeding canvas of life.
As with the silence of the ringer and the letters no longer received do we find who really is the type of friend that would sink with you rather than save themselves. As close to life as we could ever hope to achieve, and we still forget these people daily as our bread, and their small remnances as our drink when we thirst. These who surround us allow us to release the libertine within us in multiple ways, and the ladies do allow the more traditional meaning.
Such shameful thinking has brought me to the brink of popping the last bottle on the shelf, and the locked box so easily broken without a key. Such a heart of mine was locked under many keys, when she brought along the pick.
For the hours I have wasted moving, working, and sweating, I have only one thing I feel is deservedly mine. The rest of which surrounds me would gladly be traded in for such a prize, and the goal of yet to be accomplished is only such perseverance to live in such a mundane state of mind that I continually fight each day.
I guess if anything were to ever happen it should be the most breathtaking conversation. I listen to the lyrics of those who I supposedly identify with, and find myself awe inspired by such. However their weaknesses reveal within seconds that they sing only for themselves and share nothing in the larger pain as whole in humanity. Admirable and damnable such reasoning, however in their own hearts they only write for themselves and in only such writing can the true emotion be relinquished onto the bleeding canvas of life.
As with the silence of the ringer and the letters no longer received do we find who really is the type of friend that would sink with you rather than save themselves. As close to life as we could ever hope to achieve, and we still forget these people daily as our bread, and their small remnances as our drink when we thirst. These who surround us allow us to release the libertine within us in multiple ways, and the ladies do allow the more traditional meaning.
Such shameful thinking has brought me to the brink of popping the last bottle on the shelf, and the locked box so easily broken without a key. Such a heart of mine was locked under many keys, when she brought along the pick.