Of course.
my head hurts.
I've been thinking too much.
I've been wishing too much.
I've been wanting too much.
I've been negative lately.
I can't get shit off my mind.
I can't express my feelings with out anger attached.
I can't justify my feelings.
I am not the person I once was.
I am not the person that I want to be.
I am too forgiving.
I am not forgiving at all.
I can't hold a grudge.
I can't believe you.
I can't say what's on my mind. ever.
I fudge the truth to make myself happier.
I make my life seem like it is okay.
it is not okay. at all.
I don't see myself with anyone.
I want stability.
I want Marriage.
I want kids.
I want money.
I want
I want
I fucking want.
I ask myself if I am happy, and what does my fucking brain respond with?
yes. that's it. a fucking yes. HOW?! how the fuck am I happy?
I want to express myself in ways that are beyond me.
I would love to travel, get away from here but then what would happen to school, money, my life?
and would that really make anything better? or just temporarily extend my pathetic life?
If i left, and didn't come back...who would call me and wonder where i was? who would tell me that they missed me?
but honestly, who cares?
The military
would you solve my problems?
I wonder about you all the time..
If i joined you..where would I be? Iraq? 6 ft under? mental institution?
so military..i ask you again..would you solve my problems?
Hello picket white fence and 2 children, a boy and a girl, of course, and pet dog, Missy, a lab, of course, hello mother -in-law who lives downstairs, why yes you can join us for dinner, I've been cooking it all day, a pot roast, how nice. I'm a stay at home mom, of course, Oh! husband! you are home from a long day at the office, of course, why don't you sit down, I'll make you a nice cocktail and rub your feet because you are, of course, the money maker of the family. Oh! a knock on the door, its a white door, of course, with a red trim, but not a bright red trim, of course, it is a tinted maroon, the shade the says this house is warm, of course. There's a man at the door, he is wearing all black and has a gun. He comes into our house, of course, muddy boots and all and shoots up the family.
Its funny, how one thing can fuck up many, many good things, of course.
I've been thinking too much.
I've been wishing too much.
I've been wanting too much.
I've been negative lately.
I can't get shit off my mind.
I can't express my feelings with out anger attached.
I can't justify my feelings.
I am not the person I once was.
I am not the person that I want to be.
I am too forgiving.
I am not forgiving at all.
I can't hold a grudge.
I can't believe you.
I can't say what's on my mind. ever.
I fudge the truth to make myself happier.
I make my life seem like it is okay.
it is not okay. at all.
I don't see myself with anyone.
I want stability.
I want Marriage.
I want kids.
I want money.
I want
I want
I fucking want.
I ask myself if I am happy, and what does my fucking brain respond with?
yes. that's it. a fucking yes. HOW?! how the fuck am I happy?
I want to express myself in ways that are beyond me.
I would love to travel, get away from here but then what would happen to school, money, my life?
and would that really make anything better? or just temporarily extend my pathetic life?
If i left, and didn't come back...who would call me and wonder where i was? who would tell me that they missed me?
but honestly, who cares?
The military
would you solve my problems?
I wonder about you all the time..
If i joined you..where would I be? Iraq? 6 ft under? mental institution?
so military..i ask you again..would you solve my problems?
Hello picket white fence and 2 children, a boy and a girl, of course, and pet dog, Missy, a lab, of course, hello mother -in-law who lives downstairs, why yes you can join us for dinner, I've been cooking it all day, a pot roast, how nice. I'm a stay at home mom, of course, Oh! husband! you are home from a long day at the office, of course, why don't you sit down, I'll make you a nice cocktail and rub your feet because you are, of course, the money maker of the family. Oh! a knock on the door, its a white door, of course, with a red trim, but not a bright red trim, of course, it is a tinted maroon, the shade the says this house is warm, of course. There's a man at the door, he is wearing all black and has a gun. He comes into our house, of course, muddy boots and all and shoots up the family.
Its funny, how one thing can fuck up many, many good things, of course.