(no subject)
I think the majority of people have learned how to ignore the vast ammount of piddle that spews out of my mouth and fingers. And I'm done with appologies for now, and I have alot on my mind. Like a brick fortress resting solely upon my neck. My eye infection is really bad, and prolly going to lessen my vision more. I can't read the screen of my computer without my contacts, it's absolutely depressing.
I knew I could have made GHP. I know it. Manipulating people, and old ladies especially, is no back-breaking task. But I wanted to stay home this summer in hopes of a blooming life that remains stagnant. I wonder if I should try out next year. And although your opinions mean very little to me when it comes to life decisions, I'll ask you all if I should go to GHP next summer :-/.
My mirror, My friend, My foe,
You are my doorway to reality,
My ticket to insanity,
My blimish and my fat.
In you I see myself,
Stout and unfit to live.
And I wonder to myself,
If not for you, could I go on.
I couldn't,
I hardly pass as an individual now.
There is me,
And then there is what I make-
The perfection I seek so far to discover in myself.
But the idea of perfection,
Is but an illusion,
Forever taunting with the pain of a thousand tortured souls-
You are my demise.
My perfect beautiful mirror,
Who laughs and taunts me,
You are my demise.
It would only take something as perfect as you,
To ruin the life of another,
With the sharpness of truth and reality.
And what will become of my reality,
To remain sane and fit for society's betterment,
Or to always know,
That I'de never be pretty enough for the ones I loved most.
I knew I could have made GHP. I know it. Manipulating people, and old ladies especially, is no back-breaking task. But I wanted to stay home this summer in hopes of a blooming life that remains stagnant. I wonder if I should try out next year. And although your opinions mean very little to me when it comes to life decisions, I'll ask you all if I should go to GHP next summer :-/.
My mirror, My friend, My foe,
You are my doorway to reality,
My ticket to insanity,
My blimish and my fat.
In you I see myself,
Stout and unfit to live.
And I wonder to myself,
If not for you, could I go on.
I couldn't,
I hardly pass as an individual now.
There is me,
And then there is what I make-
The perfection I seek so far to discover in myself.
But the idea of perfection,
Is but an illusion,
Forever taunting with the pain of a thousand tortured souls-
You are my demise.
My perfect beautiful mirror,
Who laughs and taunts me,
You are my demise.
It would only take something as perfect as you,
To ruin the life of another,
With the sharpness of truth and reality.
And what will become of my reality,
To remain sane and fit for society's betterment,
Or to always know,
That I'de never be pretty enough for the ones I loved most.