(no subject)
lately its been about the paint, not the words. i have fallen in to a hole. continually sacrificing self expression for the company of the every night type, yet so restless. things are always slow now, it seems my mind is melting. why is it that every scenario of my life never lives up to........ what? who? where? why? i have no fucking clue, i just know these particular 'here and now's' aren't it. the ultimate intangible, the constant itch, the need, the hope that something will happen and everything will finally (insert verb)! im probably talking about death. or nothing.