This is what happened last night.
So I had a very "eventful" night last night. Some crap happened that has put me off into a somber, yet angry place. People are stupid, selfish, and terrible creatures. I include myself in this statement.
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The devil inside me, the devil beside me, licking the flames of what’s regrettably inclined to be forgotten. The curse that sits angrily at the steps, waiting for a window, to catch some sort of drift on which to float away to a higher insanity. The purpose of the gluttony is unknown and so divisive. Presumption floated thick in the air like a molding dew. The web of sickly spiders waited for the wind to die down before they descended from the tangle of their words. And in that place I was the anger. I was the machine discarded. And within that golden arrogance, I flew. I had to leave. Selfishness dripped form my body, pooling in an outlash. The failure of composure steamed from my chest and vaporized whatever heart I happened to be wearing on my sleeve. And the honesty deluded the glint of that particular dreamscape. That faux-reality, that imposter of the truth. And despite the view from my clouded eyes, I felt obstinate, jaded, taken advantage of, as if the first and last things said to me were options that were not fair.
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Having written it out, I feel better. I just have to remember that none of this is real.
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The devil inside me, the devil beside me, licking the flames of what’s regrettably inclined to be forgotten. The curse that sits angrily at the steps, waiting for a window, to catch some sort of drift on which to float away to a higher insanity. The purpose of the gluttony is unknown and so divisive. Presumption floated thick in the air like a molding dew. The web of sickly spiders waited for the wind to die down before they descended from the tangle of their words. And in that place I was the anger. I was the machine discarded. And within that golden arrogance, I flew. I had to leave. Selfishness dripped form my body, pooling in an outlash. The failure of composure steamed from my chest and vaporized whatever heart I happened to be wearing on my sleeve. And the honesty deluded the glint of that particular dreamscape. That faux-reality, that imposter of the truth. And despite the view from my clouded eyes, I felt obstinate, jaded, taken advantage of, as if the first and last things said to me were options that were not fair.
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Having written it out, I feel better. I just have to remember that none of this is real.