it will not relapse.
I will continue to formulate a mission statement_ and to most of you surprise it will have almost nothing to do with my absolute stunning ability to be quite mendacious.
* as i type with a smirk*
___________________________________________
..I'm so tired of playing little games.
..tired of the madness.
..i wanna be a writer.
..i have finally established who my real friends are.. if that is even is the real truth.
.. I want be hugged at night, and not by my own meek arms.
.. I wish dreams came true more often than fairy-tales falsify.
.. I look back at old photographs i have taken and yearn for my "glory days".
.. i than become conscious and come to the realization that i will soon succumb to my "glory days".
.. I will go down in the books as being the one who never gave up on the simplicity called life.
.. yes, i carry around brass knuckles.
.. they only denote my need for not only craved attention, but my need for the want of dramatic pain in my world.( well, maybe not that intense)
..i will not surrender, and you will never see me wave a white flag above my head.
.. most of the time i love to surround myself with beautiful people and just recently i have found the beauty in most if not all of them.
.. "I want so badly to believe that there is truth and love is real,a nd i want life in every word to the extent that it's absurd." - postal Service.
.. that is ingenious.
++++ I have a friend who is truly remarkable. She needs to learn so much from the world and the world will learn so much from her. She stands as a lone reed and drives down the open highway called life in her stilettos. Her eyes illustrate a symbol of sadness that i long for the day when i can see ecstasy through her windows of sight.
Truth is a fault of hers so is potency, so is learning the words to song lyrics. She makes me smile she gives me glee. She needs to realize that real people with bona fide integrity truly care for her. She is special. She will succeed to be triumphant through these years called adolescence. She is not tall, she dances to her own beat, she is female, but most of all S H E is ...my friend.
* as i type with a smirk*
___________________________________________
..I'm so tired of playing little games.
..tired of the madness.
..i wanna be a writer.
..i have finally established who my real friends are.. if that is even is the real truth.
.. I want be hugged at night, and not by my own meek arms.
.. I wish dreams came true more often than fairy-tales falsify.
.. I look back at old photographs i have taken and yearn for my "glory days".
.. i than become conscious and come to the realization that i will soon succumb to my "glory days".
.. I will go down in the books as being the one who never gave up on the simplicity called life.
.. yes, i carry around brass knuckles.
.. they only denote my need for not only craved attention, but my need for the want of dramatic pain in my world.( well, maybe not that intense)
..i will not surrender, and you will never see me wave a white flag above my head.
.. most of the time i love to surround myself with beautiful people and just recently i have found the beauty in most if not all of them.
.. "I want so badly to believe that there is truth and love is real,a nd i want life in every word to the extent that it's absurd." - postal Service.
.. that is ingenious.
++++ I have a friend who is truly remarkable. She needs to learn so much from the world and the world will learn so much from her. She stands as a lone reed and drives down the open highway called life in her stilettos. Her eyes illustrate a symbol of sadness that i long for the day when i can see ecstasy through her windows of sight.
Truth is a fault of hers so is potency, so is learning the words to song lyrics. She makes me smile she gives me glee. She needs to realize that real people with bona fide integrity truly care for her. She is special. She will succeed to be triumphant through these years called adolescence. She is not tall, she dances to her own beat, she is female, but most of all S H E is ...my friend.