Going. Going. Gone.
I can tell you why people go insane
And I can show you how you can do the same...
I can tell you why people die alone.
I can tell you why, shadow on the sun...
I'm so sleepy, but...my mind is bloody well racing right now.
Or, "spinning," I suppose...if you want to put it that way, eh?
What makes me different from anyone else? Why the hell would I be chosen above other people? Why am I...me? What makes me prefer italics to bolding words? Why do I like teal, purple, grey, and orange, but not gold, white, or pink? I like this kind of food, that kind of cloth, these kind of clothes, and those type of people...I don't like getting drunk. I don't like getting high. I like laughing and carrying on. I like late-night talks in Galloway, or the car, or Hardin, or in a random field. I love walking by myself...I love walking with others. Why? Why why why? Who's to say what makes me any different from the next person and why should that matter?
I had a revelation.
Bet you'd like to know what about.
But I'm not gonna tell you.
You gotta figure this one out.
Yeah. I'm a poet, bitch.
Actually, that riddle's been floating around my brain for about an hour. I need sleep. I have work in less than five hours and I am so tired...just take a wild guess what I'm hinting at. It's not something you'd suspect, but not a surprise, I think.
I realized it when I was sitting in Galloway with Mandy and Louis. Just a hint: nothing about the ferrety one. Oddly enough.
Huh. Kinda strange that it should hit me at a time like that.
I was so comfy up 'til then too.
Just guess.
And I can show you how you can do the same...
I can tell you why people die alone.
I can tell you why, shadow on the sun...
I'm so sleepy, but...my mind is bloody well racing right now.
Or, "spinning," I suppose...if you want to put it that way, eh?
What makes me different from anyone else? Why the hell would I be chosen above other people? Why am I...me? What makes me prefer italics to bolding words? Why do I like teal, purple, grey, and orange, but not gold, white, or pink? I like this kind of food, that kind of cloth, these kind of clothes, and those type of people...I don't like getting drunk. I don't like getting high. I like laughing and carrying on. I like late-night talks in Galloway, or the car, or Hardin, or in a random field. I love walking by myself...I love walking with others. Why? Why why why? Who's to say what makes me any different from the next person and why should that matter?
I had a revelation.
Bet you'd like to know what about.
But I'm not gonna tell you.
You gotta figure this one out.
Yeah. I'm a poet, bitch.
Actually, that riddle's been floating around my brain for about an hour. I need sleep. I have work in less than five hours and I am so tired...just take a wild guess what I'm hinting at. It's not something you'd suspect, but not a surprise, I think.
I realized it when I was sitting in Galloway with Mandy and Louis. Just a hint: nothing about the ferrety one. Oddly enough.
Huh. Kinda strange that it should hit me at a time like that.
I was so comfy up 'til then too.
Just guess.