electricity
Buzzing. Hushing. Loving.
I think I grew up the minute I stopped thinking "What is happening?" and started thinking "Why is this happening?" I still don't know the answer to either.
I'm running out of things that I consider myself better than you at. I'm pretty good at a few things, but nothing really important. I just want to host a competition for everything. I don't like to lose, so I rarely do.
I wish life was more like a video game. Unlimited lives, trial and error, skill progression, etc. Plus, I'm good at video games. Not so much life.
All of you. There you all are. I say nothing. You speak at me. I speak to myself. I'm only good with people if they're in front of me. I can't arrange. I can't bring you to me. You tell me. When and where. I don't miss appointments. But I sure hate them.
How many people do I know? A couple hundred. How many faces have I seen? A couple million.
Biking is fun. I don't even really do it for exercise, I just tell myself that. I do it to see people. It's crazy to think there's whole worlds out there. People's whose lives are so far detached from mine. But they live less than a mile away. I'll never be able to get to know them all.
I need more local friends. Doing things alone is only so much fun for so long. You know what's amazing. Down-ass people. I need people who respond to me with one simple word, "Down". I need reliable people. Everyone's so busy, no one makes time for anyone. Apparently people think I'm the same way. But like I said, you ask me if I'm down and I never change, I always am.
Everyone just seems so much more "evolved" than me. I don't know how I fell behind, but you guys are flying. Zeppelin chasing jets. I don't know. There you all go.
They so choosey. What can I do? Make 'em see it. Not that easy. Put in the work. That's all.
Right here. I did exactly what you did to me. I bet it hurt the same. I feel like a dick. Fuck. I am.
Presence. I need it. I want to control everything. I want to be at the reins. I want to maintain. Associate, not here. Only one. I can.
How do you feel? F-f-f-fucking good.
They're all working towards similar goals. I'm working towards one. My goal is to surpass all of your goals. I can't handle it. Everyone is falling into those holes; obvious ones. All of you are stumbling. I wish I could carry the whole team.
Singularity.
Fuck. I need a beat. Plug it directly into my neck. Let it drown. I'm on top of it all. Right here. Everything around me. Let it go.
Everything is changing.
And everything is the same.
Nothing I can do will ever reach you. It's sad that I'll know when everyone suddenly begins to ride the train. I can't let myself, but I probably will.
It's good to know that I'll succeed. Because let's face it. I don't like to lose.
All the uncertainty. All the world's questions. All the fear and the anxiety. I have none of. I know where I want to go. I know where I will be. And I don't forget. I carry the ones that care. I look out for the ones that aren't afraid. I won't let them fall.
Meticulous. Every punctuate, every parable.
I wish you could see it now. How amazing.
Nothing's so deliberate anymore. How could it be? You took it from me.
And so I space it out. Like they all remembered. What had happened.
I'm unfortunate.
Please,.
Write it for me. I can write you something. Something dear and honest. But I can't share it. Not with anyone. Not for anyone. I can't remember.
I wish everyone was here.
I can't yet decide if I love everyone or hate everyone. It doesn't really matter.
I don't remember how to sleep in the summer. Not that it's important. Sleep is the cousin of death after all. At least that's what Professor Nasir told me.
Does anyone even understand what the fuck I'm even saying anymore? No, didn't think so.
Ok, now I'm going to dedicate an entire paragraph to Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes. Holy fuck. I wish I had a fraction of their talent. Teddy Pendergrass is my idol. If I could even remotely feel things the way he seems to feel things, I would be enlightened. Music that's so damn honest. Even when it gets cheesy it feels important and grand. I've never heard anything that spoke so loudly and painfully. Nothing feels as real. If you haven't listened, you really need to. NEED TO.
I wish I could dance so nice. I wish I could sing so well. If I tried to express myself otherwise, I'd look stupid. But I guess that's charming too.
Who do you direct things to now? No one to pander to. No one to hurt. No one to impress. Just wandering. Commentary used to be flattering. Now it's invisible. Everyone moves on eventually. But I don't forget. I linger. I can't let it go. Everyone is flying past me. Zeppelin chasing jets.
We used to talk about music we loved. Our favourite songs. I wish we could just do that again. It's better than what we talk about now (nothing; we don't).
I wonder if I'll ever be honest. Maybe if I really loved them.
Making up stories. I do it for a living, I may as well do it for my living. One day I'll move far, far away. And everything anyone will ever know of me, will be a story of mine. It makes me more interesting. Probably.
I don't know what to tell you. My summer's been good. There. Answered every message I received in the last few weeks. You don't really care about details.
You'd think I was actually talking about and to someone. I'm good at that.
Imagine if I was under investigation. People would analyze what I write. They would be fucking confused. I don't even understand what I'm talking about half the time. I don't know how anyone else could. But I do appreciate those that try.
For this reason, I wish I was famous and in textbooks.
I bet my English teacher would still think I'm a genius. Or maybe brilliant.
I used to be good at Math, until that side of my brain died. Now I just write and speak like a crazy person. Logic.
I could never write a book. What would it look like?
Point-form. Everything. Like life.
I think I grew up the minute I stopped thinking "What is happening?" and started thinking "Why is this happening?" I still don't know the answer to either.
I'm running out of things that I consider myself better than you at. I'm pretty good at a few things, but nothing really important. I just want to host a competition for everything. I don't like to lose, so I rarely do.
I wish life was more like a video game. Unlimited lives, trial and error, skill progression, etc. Plus, I'm good at video games. Not so much life.
All of you. There you all are. I say nothing. You speak at me. I speak to myself. I'm only good with people if they're in front of me. I can't arrange. I can't bring you to me. You tell me. When and where. I don't miss appointments. But I sure hate them.
How many people do I know? A couple hundred. How many faces have I seen? A couple million.
Biking is fun. I don't even really do it for exercise, I just tell myself that. I do it to see people. It's crazy to think there's whole worlds out there. People's whose lives are so far detached from mine. But they live less than a mile away. I'll never be able to get to know them all.
I need more local friends. Doing things alone is only so much fun for so long. You know what's amazing. Down-ass people. I need people who respond to me with one simple word, "Down". I need reliable people. Everyone's so busy, no one makes time for anyone. Apparently people think I'm the same way. But like I said, you ask me if I'm down and I never change, I always am.
Everyone just seems so much more "evolved" than me. I don't know how I fell behind, but you guys are flying. Zeppelin chasing jets. I don't know. There you all go.
They so choosey. What can I do? Make 'em see it. Not that easy. Put in the work. That's all.
Right here. I did exactly what you did to me. I bet it hurt the same. I feel like a dick. Fuck. I am.
Presence. I need it. I want to control everything. I want to be at the reins. I want to maintain. Associate, not here. Only one. I can.
How do you feel? F-f-f-fucking good.
They're all working towards similar goals. I'm working towards one. My goal is to surpass all of your goals. I can't handle it. Everyone is falling into those holes; obvious ones. All of you are stumbling. I wish I could carry the whole team.
Singularity.
Fuck. I need a beat. Plug it directly into my neck. Let it drown. I'm on top of it all. Right here. Everything around me. Let it go.
Everything is changing.
And everything is the same.
Nothing I can do will ever reach you. It's sad that I'll know when everyone suddenly begins to ride the train. I can't let myself, but I probably will.
It's good to know that I'll succeed. Because let's face it. I don't like to lose.
All the uncertainty. All the world's questions. All the fear and the anxiety. I have none of. I know where I want to go. I know where I will be. And I don't forget. I carry the ones that care. I look out for the ones that aren't afraid. I won't let them fall.
Meticulous. Every punctuate, every parable.
I wish you could see it now. How amazing.
Nothing's so deliberate anymore. How could it be? You took it from me.
And so I space it out. Like they all remembered. What had happened.
I'm unfortunate.
Please,.
Write it for me. I can write you something. Something dear and honest. But I can't share it. Not with anyone. Not for anyone. I can't remember.
I wish everyone was here.
I can't yet decide if I love everyone or hate everyone. It doesn't really matter.
I don't remember how to sleep in the summer. Not that it's important. Sleep is the cousin of death after all. At least that's what Professor Nasir told me.
Does anyone even understand what the fuck I'm even saying anymore? No, didn't think so.
Ok, now I'm going to dedicate an entire paragraph to Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes. Holy fuck. I wish I had a fraction of their talent. Teddy Pendergrass is my idol. If I could even remotely feel things the way he seems to feel things, I would be enlightened. Music that's so damn honest. Even when it gets cheesy it feels important and grand. I've never heard anything that spoke so loudly and painfully. Nothing feels as real. If you haven't listened, you really need to. NEED TO.
I wish I could dance so nice. I wish I could sing so well. If I tried to express myself otherwise, I'd look stupid. But I guess that's charming too.
Who do you direct things to now? No one to pander to. No one to hurt. No one to impress. Just wandering. Commentary used to be flattering. Now it's invisible. Everyone moves on eventually. But I don't forget. I linger. I can't let it go. Everyone is flying past me. Zeppelin chasing jets.
We used to talk about music we loved. Our favourite songs. I wish we could just do that again. It's better than what we talk about now (nothing; we don't).
I wonder if I'll ever be honest. Maybe if I really loved them.
Making up stories. I do it for a living, I may as well do it for my living. One day I'll move far, far away. And everything anyone will ever know of me, will be a story of mine. It makes me more interesting. Probably.
I don't know what to tell you. My summer's been good. There. Answered every message I received in the last few weeks. You don't really care about details.
You'd think I was actually talking about and to someone. I'm good at that.
Imagine if I was under investigation. People would analyze what I write. They would be fucking confused. I don't even understand what I'm talking about half the time. I don't know how anyone else could. But I do appreciate those that try.
For this reason, I wish I was famous and in textbooks.
I bet my English teacher would still think I'm a genius. Or maybe brilliant.
I used to be good at Math, until that side of my brain died. Now I just write and speak like a crazy person. Logic.
I could never write a book. What would it look like?
Point-form. Everything. Like life.