an obelisk to oppurtunities blown
god, isnt the moon beautiful? i just kept staring at the sky. Between cracks and fissures in the clouds, i saw the halfmoon. it resembles a sideways guillotine blade, just waiting to fall. i felt tears trickle ther way down my cheek.
every night it gets a new chance to come up just right.And every morning, no matter how imperfect it is, its just washed away.
When your young you have all these chances, and with time you blow them, one after the other. Finally life becomes a specific thing-and thats what we are.ultimitly, looking back im beggining to belive that we always need to be fucked up. we need to always have some reason to hate ourselves, something to make us feel eternally incomplete.
Because thats what it all comes down to. A struggle for forgiveness in an unforgiving world.
every night it gets a new chance to come up just right.And every morning, no matter how imperfect it is, its just washed away.
When your young you have all these chances, and with time you blow them, one after the other. Finally life becomes a specific thing-and thats what we are.ultimitly, looking back im beggining to belive that we always need to be fucked up. we need to always have some reason to hate ourselves, something to make us feel eternally incomplete.
Because thats what it all comes down to. A struggle for forgiveness in an unforgiving world.