beginning to end
Hi there computer keypad.
How you feelin'?
Do you like get pounded every hour?
People just use you for their own pleasure?
Something poetic, seems we only can write that way when feeling low.
We turn our computer on, type in... www.livejournal.com, write the story of our depression that day.
Share all our feelings with strangers, allow people into our deepest secrets.
People say, "I don't need your help."
Why are we writing then? Sharing our feelings is a cry out for help, isn't it?
This might be a bit naive, or off.
That's all we seem to want, help.
But when offered, we paw it down, shouldn't we paw it down?
A sense of self-control.
Nobody can have complete self-control.
When you are offered a hit of anything, or the room upstairs to "fool around" what are you going to do?
Say, "yes."
Because no matter how bad we don't want it, nobdoy can resist a little ride (pun intended, and not intended).
You wake up the next moring, or the morning after, and say, "Shit that was awful, never again... never again."
The next weekend you are upstairs again.
We learn, but forget what we have learned.
But we are young, take the hits... fuck up.
We have time.
How you feelin'?
Do you like get pounded every hour?
People just use you for their own pleasure?
Something poetic, seems we only can write that way when feeling low.
We turn our computer on, type in... www.livejournal.com, write the story of our depression that day.
Share all our feelings with strangers, allow people into our deepest secrets.
People say, "I don't need your help."
Why are we writing then? Sharing our feelings is a cry out for help, isn't it?
This might be a bit naive, or off.
That's all we seem to want, help.
But when offered, we paw it down, shouldn't we paw it down?
A sense of self-control.
Nobody can have complete self-control.
When you are offered a hit of anything, or the room upstairs to "fool around" what are you going to do?
Say, "yes."
Because no matter how bad we don't want it, nobdoy can resist a little ride (pun intended, and not intended).
You wake up the next moring, or the morning after, and say, "Shit that was awful, never again... never again."
The next weekend you are upstairs again.
We learn, but forget what we have learned.
But we are young, take the hits... fuck up.
We have time.