I Downloaded All These Stolen Moments And Now They Mean Nothing To Me. I Didn't Even Know I Had ".."
i don't know.
and that's a fear.
am i better of to be alone.
not even close to done with this alienation.
so far i've run at such a casual place.
burning waves good-bye to so many.
some dear.
a few fuckers.
i should be less concerned with "who gets theirs".
these invisible moments.
oh joy! the soundtrack of a life.
so many before me. around. ahead.
like a sad facial of healthy sperm to your loved ones face.
i've got to gut this fish, before it makes sense to steal a car.
i'm in outerspace, and i don't know if i like it.
driving fast with happiness, like a jackass even a grandma and grandpa would curse.
of all the things that i'll do. too much time fucking around with all that ain't.
my dreams are better then this place.
it took about 30 years to make the first half of my blissful dreams to shit.
all those memories held precious. shit.
all i thought i had stared down and labeled over with. shadows of uncertainty still.
unable to share the sugar cane of what i feel.
left alone, i am urgently desperate to be left alone.
(of course) it would be nice to be taken to someones home every now and then.
shaking, core cooling, neck hairs sharply standing
is this the truth of what i'm feeling?
every move feels like a mistake. only because of all this doubt. stacked so high.
bury you out.
no company to keep.
my political smile clearly shows my decaying soul.
i keep taking myself apart.
i keep thinking i'm worth something.
i'm steering away from the need of self.
striving to not be ... that shit.
too self analytical with teenage breast sensitive inconsideration.
a perfectly neat unorganized mess only to a self proclaimed ADD - 60 minutes news geek.
i feel as though i should have a chance to hold on.
i deserve nothing.
albino, like everyone else.
yet i know, i make myself deserve nothing.
30 years and it makes me smile to think about you getting punched in the face.
no jokes.
something in common with over half of all that damn saturday night Live.
i should recall that every things bound to change at a moments notice.
although i don't always work like that.
eyes wide open.
eyes wide shut.
we're always trying to remake the most important recreations of what a message means to us.
never is no ain't.
certainty in evaporating faith.
i'm comfortable with this alone. like a wonderful dream, who'd a thunk i'd fear to be approaching awake.
outside the center of all i hate.
and that's a fear.
am i better of to be alone.
not even close to done with this alienation.
so far i've run at such a casual place.
burning waves good-bye to so many.
some dear.
a few fuckers.
i should be less concerned with "who gets theirs".
these invisible moments.
oh joy! the soundtrack of a life.
so many before me. around. ahead.
like a sad facial of healthy sperm to your loved ones face.
i've got to gut this fish, before it makes sense to steal a car.
i'm in outerspace, and i don't know if i like it.
driving fast with happiness, like a jackass even a grandma and grandpa would curse.
of all the things that i'll do. too much time fucking around with all that ain't.
my dreams are better then this place.
it took about 30 years to make the first half of my blissful dreams to shit.
all those memories held precious. shit.
all i thought i had stared down and labeled over with. shadows of uncertainty still.
unable to share the sugar cane of what i feel.
left alone, i am urgently desperate to be left alone.
(of course) it would be nice to be taken to someones home every now and then.
shaking, core cooling, neck hairs sharply standing
is this the truth of what i'm feeling?
every move feels like a mistake. only because of all this doubt. stacked so high.
bury you out.
no company to keep.
my political smile clearly shows my decaying soul.
i keep taking myself apart.
i keep thinking i'm worth something.
i'm steering away from the need of self.
striving to not be ... that shit.
too self analytical with teenage breast sensitive inconsideration.
a perfectly neat unorganized mess only to a self proclaimed ADD - 60 minutes news geek.
i feel as though i should have a chance to hold on.
i deserve nothing.
albino, like everyone else.
yet i know, i make myself deserve nothing.
30 years and it makes me smile to think about you getting punched in the face.
no jokes.
something in common with over half of all that damn saturday night Live.
i should recall that every things bound to change at a moments notice.
although i don't always work like that.
eyes wide open.
eyes wide shut.
we're always trying to remake the most important recreations of what a message means to us.
never is no ain't.
certainty in evaporating faith.
i'm comfortable with this alone. like a wonderful dream, who'd a thunk i'd fear to be approaching awake.
outside the center of all i hate.