(no subject)
I have not entered yet this year it seems. I could be wrong, but I may be right.
The way to keep yourself from seeing the big picture is to focus on the small things.
The more things die, the more things stay the same.
I am reading a book called lullaby, it speaks of a culling song that kills when you read it to people, that would be a new weapon of mass destruction. Sound would cease to exists, radio stations would shut down. We would have police officers sent to silence people so the words couldn't be heard, for if they were we would all be dead.
Pen with feathers and flowertops make up half the pens in my house, to bad after using them for a day the flowers welt and the feathers crack, leaving nothing but an ugly broken pen that works, but doesn't look good.
At night, when the mice come out you can hear them crawl under your feet, inches away from you, and you can look to try and find them, but you never will. They've already infested your house and the only way to kill them is if you kill everything. Time to Vaccuum seal the house..
Vaccuum is one word i never know if i spell correctly.
Ramblings are etched into stone, the only truth that is actually spoken is those in rambles, and maybe in songs, but songs usually parallel an alternate reality, or vagueness so that they can be globally accepted. "I am hurt." "I fucked up." those should be the titles of the songs that are pop enough for global acceptance, don't worry, it's a good plan...
It's five o'clock and my father has awoken, if he shall come down and see me here he might be upset. While he is in the bathroom i will scurry upstairs to bed. Which means now.
The way to keep yourself from seeing the big picture is to focus on the small things.
The more things die, the more things stay the same.
I am reading a book called lullaby, it speaks of a culling song that kills when you read it to people, that would be a new weapon of mass destruction. Sound would cease to exists, radio stations would shut down. We would have police officers sent to silence people so the words couldn't be heard, for if they were we would all be dead.
Pen with feathers and flowertops make up half the pens in my house, to bad after using them for a day the flowers welt and the feathers crack, leaving nothing but an ugly broken pen that works, but doesn't look good.
At night, when the mice come out you can hear them crawl under your feet, inches away from you, and you can look to try and find them, but you never will. They've already infested your house and the only way to kill them is if you kill everything. Time to Vaccuum seal the house..
Vaccuum is one word i never know if i spell correctly.
Ramblings are etched into stone, the only truth that is actually spoken is those in rambles, and maybe in songs, but songs usually parallel an alternate reality, or vagueness so that they can be globally accepted. "I am hurt." "I fucked up." those should be the titles of the songs that are pop enough for global acceptance, don't worry, it's a good plan...
It's five o'clock and my father has awoken, if he shall come down and see me here he might be upset. While he is in the bathroom i will scurry upstairs to bed. Which means now.