(no subject)
It’s too hard to be the man I want to be.
More effort, more trying, more hurt, than I am willing to put myself through right now.
I know nothing ever great was gained by staying up late and still feeling lonely at the end of it,
But I can’t sleep until somebody notices me.
It’s like there’s someone on my shoulder.
Waiting for me to turn around.
And then vanishing out of spite.
Be so spiteful, I start to hate you.
I dare you, make me shiver more.
Who are you and what have you done to me?
I want so bad to be the man I envision.
I want it so bad I convince myself I am.
Then I am reminded, shockingly, that I’m a fake.
I’m awful.
I am the worst and best thing that ever happened to you.
What if you had to choose?
Would I be the better man and choose for you?
Would I be the lesser man and let you choose?
Am I a lesser man for letting myself be so lonely?
I am not ready for life to be so complicated.
After years of forcing myself to do my best.
Rather, not trying particularly hard, but always telling myself
it wasn’t good enough.
After those years, I’m tired.
I want you to do it for me.
I need a muse.
I need my inspiration back.
I need to become the man I talk about being.
The person I’m convinced that I am.
I want.
I need.
I sound like a selfish prick.
I don’t care, which doesn’t bother me.
The fact that I am not bothered, bothers me.
Does that mean that at the end of it all, I am just torturing myself for nothing?
I’m not complaining, just pointing out
that dreams don’t come true at 4:14 in the morning.
Besides all that, I'm okay, I think.
If you miss me, call me and make me hang out with you.
I won't do it on my own, and I'm sorry that I'm always so secluded.
Draw me out. I dare you.
If you ask me to, I WILL come out and play.
Confusion is a bitch, and so is payback.
This isn't necessarily a cry for help, but PLEASE get me out of the house.
I need my friends.
More effort, more trying, more hurt, than I am willing to put myself through right now.
I know nothing ever great was gained by staying up late and still feeling lonely at the end of it,
But I can’t sleep until somebody notices me.
It’s like there’s someone on my shoulder.
Waiting for me to turn around.
And then vanishing out of spite.
Be so spiteful, I start to hate you.
I dare you, make me shiver more.
Who are you and what have you done to me?
I want so bad to be the man I envision.
I want it so bad I convince myself I am.
Then I am reminded, shockingly, that I’m a fake.
I’m awful.
I am the worst and best thing that ever happened to you.
What if you had to choose?
Would I be the better man and choose for you?
Would I be the lesser man and let you choose?
Am I a lesser man for letting myself be so lonely?
I am not ready for life to be so complicated.
After years of forcing myself to do my best.
Rather, not trying particularly hard, but always telling myself
it wasn’t good enough.
After those years, I’m tired.
I want you to do it for me.
I need a muse.
I need my inspiration back.
I need to become the man I talk about being.
The person I’m convinced that I am.
I want.
I need.
I sound like a selfish prick.
I don’t care, which doesn’t bother me.
The fact that I am not bothered, bothers me.
Does that mean that at the end of it all, I am just torturing myself for nothing?
I’m not complaining, just pointing out
that dreams don’t come true at 4:14 in the morning.
Besides all that, I'm okay, I think.
If you miss me, call me and make me hang out with you.
I won't do it on my own, and I'm sorry that I'm always so secluded.
Draw me out. I dare you.
If you ask me to, I WILL come out and play.
Confusion is a bitch, and so is payback.
This isn't necessarily a cry for help, but PLEASE get me out of the house.
I need my friends.