angry pissed and hurt
sums up the mood as of now
the truth hurts
the truth stings the truth can burn holes threw you deeper and more painful then being ten feet from the sun
so can speculation
i still hurt and i am still mad
and i have the world ahead of me but for some reason it just seems like the postal service said it best when plainly and bluntly putt it "this place is a prison"
all i see are relics
i care to much
i know how he felt how they all felt and i dont blame them
i think i see better and understand better then them
i do not claim perfection just understanding
it kills and it hurts and i stuggle
i stay strong
i cry
i know people must still care for me in some compacity and i still care deeply for them all as well
but i can only do so much and can only keep my head above this hellacious feelings i drown in
moods go up and down
i could feel fine later on today maybe as soon as all this is out
get help
get help get help
i want to ride east
i want to ride and ride and ride and be away from these sorted views of over simplification and childish thoughts and games and pyraimd schemes.
i need clarity
i see the door
my legs do not work
i have not the strength to open that heavy heavy door
but i do have the strength to keep breathing
and try and try and try as i might to look threw the peep whole
a little tiny window to the truth, holy justification and enlightenment
i ask so much and know not how but to only say "why ask why" and "please oh please"
with only he echo of my own voice saying why are you so fucking stupid
the loathing of the self gets me no were like it does others
it always seems so easy for the others
others make it so hard
while basking in the warm glow of a life floating down the peacful stream on a warm enernaly easy day to day to day
i seem to be stuck in rapids
some times fun
some times perilous
all though in the end a well lived well tattered life is a life lived and a life learned
happiness
sadness
greatness
fury
acceptance
rage
i will be so glad when my rollercoaster pulls into the staion for a short break and things seem well befor the next crowd of problems climb on into and scream shot laugh and cry while we hit the rails like a million pounds of tnt and maybe just maybe go flying off the tracks on that last hump and explode in the most purest most organized act of deliberate and indeliberate and peacful destruction people and laid there eyes on
that will be along long ways away
i just hope that when that time comes i will still have popele and still know people that can crowd around and say
'thats alex, that silly bastard, i knew him and loved him'
the truth hurts
the truth stings the truth can burn holes threw you deeper and more painful then being ten feet from the sun
so can speculation
i still hurt and i am still mad
and i have the world ahead of me but for some reason it just seems like the postal service said it best when plainly and bluntly putt it "this place is a prison"
all i see are relics
i care to much
i know how he felt how they all felt and i dont blame them
i think i see better and understand better then them
i do not claim perfection just understanding
it kills and it hurts and i stuggle
i stay strong
i cry
i know people must still care for me in some compacity and i still care deeply for them all as well
but i can only do so much and can only keep my head above this hellacious feelings i drown in
moods go up and down
i could feel fine later on today maybe as soon as all this is out
get help
get help get help
i want to ride east
i want to ride and ride and ride and be away from these sorted views of over simplification and childish thoughts and games and pyraimd schemes.
i need clarity
i see the door
my legs do not work
i have not the strength to open that heavy heavy door
but i do have the strength to keep breathing
and try and try and try as i might to look threw the peep whole
a little tiny window to the truth, holy justification and enlightenment
i ask so much and know not how but to only say "why ask why" and "please oh please"
with only he echo of my own voice saying why are you so fucking stupid
the loathing of the self gets me no were like it does others
it always seems so easy for the others
others make it so hard
while basking in the warm glow of a life floating down the peacful stream on a warm enernaly easy day to day to day
i seem to be stuck in rapids
some times fun
some times perilous
all though in the end a well lived well tattered life is a life lived and a life learned
happiness
sadness
greatness
fury
acceptance
rage
i will be so glad when my rollercoaster pulls into the staion for a short break and things seem well befor the next crowd of problems climb on into and scream shot laugh and cry while we hit the rails like a million pounds of tnt and maybe just maybe go flying off the tracks on that last hump and explode in the most purest most organized act of deliberate and indeliberate and peacful destruction people and laid there eyes on
that will be along long ways away
i just hope that when that time comes i will still have popele and still know people that can crowd around and say
'thats alex, that silly bastard, i knew him and loved him'