alrededor vasto! finalmente! comprensión puro, viva la autonomía.
i wish i spoke spanish. i'll falter a bit before i understand anything. in the meantime, i'll bounce around on the ones i remember.
we might as well begin it, time is not infinite.
the mixed music is playing in my mind and strange lullaby truths lift through the subconscious layers to bless my judgment. loud alive and dreaming, so innocent seeming a dissection of being.
here, now.
better,
later.
what is there to say with a graceless exit...
i'm all about me, fuck eachother. fuck what you thought.
did you agree, we should let it be?
what's the purpose of friendship when you've abused it out of meaning anything worth believing. when you've fucked it out of feeling and conceiving, anything beyond debasement and deceiving.
i saw people inlove, they looked at me like i was their lost child...
perfectly aged, the ectopic pregnancy manifested in mischievous life. spit out alive and kicking, adoringly they seemed just as familiar to me. it's perfect and sad when near strangers can be a stronger secure-base than full-fledged lovers and friends. the unfortunate tragedies we prescribe our lost and broken lives to, less than we deserve. a strangled satisfaction dying in absent hope that love is sufficient. lies do not commensurate fulfillment, neither does faith. there are so many scars left to make. there are so many scars left to show. the endless exposure in self-disclosure. living beyond the bondage of believing, in the wrong things.
if there is such a thing as love, i'm in it.
me, myself, and i... against everything that came before when trust was worth the risk of trusting.
don't need him anymore, the artifacts and all they lack... an inconsistent bore. these times of disaster make the denial fall away faster. tear your words apart and sew a tattered dress of memories i've learned to lay to rest. if i wanted to drown in synthetic fabrications, alterations of denial seem so infantile. i imagine i have better things to do than distress.
all the lies they tell, thought assisted suicide... the future was drowning as we breathed in embalming fluid and grieved in enabling. an abuse that would drive pitiful prospect quickly to a painless end is where this moment begins. where we cease to exist ignited in a cycle of self-destructive thought. a shameful extension of the past, i rise above the ruin of antiquity.
here, now.
so you claim you love me too?
if there's such a thing as love, give me it!
better, later.
we might as well begin it, time is not infinite.
the mixed music is playing in my mind and strange lullaby truths lift through the subconscious layers to bless my judgment. loud alive and dreaming, so innocent seeming a dissection of being.
here, now.
better,
later.
what is there to say with a graceless exit...
i'm all about me, fuck eachother. fuck what you thought.
did you agree, we should let it be?
what's the purpose of friendship when you've abused it out of meaning anything worth believing. when you've fucked it out of feeling and conceiving, anything beyond debasement and deceiving.
i saw people inlove, they looked at me like i was their lost child...
perfectly aged, the ectopic pregnancy manifested in mischievous life. spit out alive and kicking, adoringly they seemed just as familiar to me. it's perfect and sad when near strangers can be a stronger secure-base than full-fledged lovers and friends. the unfortunate tragedies we prescribe our lost and broken lives to, less than we deserve. a strangled satisfaction dying in absent hope that love is sufficient. lies do not commensurate fulfillment, neither does faith. there are so many scars left to make. there are so many scars left to show. the endless exposure in self-disclosure. living beyond the bondage of believing, in the wrong things.
if there is such a thing as love, i'm in it.
me, myself, and i... against everything that came before when trust was worth the risk of trusting.
don't need him anymore, the artifacts and all they lack... an inconsistent bore. these times of disaster make the denial fall away faster. tear your words apart and sew a tattered dress of memories i've learned to lay to rest. if i wanted to drown in synthetic fabrications, alterations of denial seem so infantile. i imagine i have better things to do than distress.
all the lies they tell, thought assisted suicide... the future was drowning as we breathed in embalming fluid and grieved in enabling. an abuse that would drive pitiful prospect quickly to a painless end is where this moment begins. where we cease to exist ignited in a cycle of self-destructive thought. a shameful extension of the past, i rise above the ruin of antiquity.
here, now.
so you claim you love me too?
if there's such a thing as love, give me it!
better, later.