(no subject)
And I won't be around to read what you wrote. But you'll never read this either. That's not much consolation. Sitting on a beach, the weather is cold, colder than the summer should be. The bath house ruins are scattered everywhere, and the sky is growing dark. It's almost time to go home. We sat and chain smoked, the silence warmer than the approaching twilight. I thought I could teach a seal to love.
Tom Petty's poetry fills the crowded air. The monotony is palatable. It tasted nostalgic. Like my childhood almost. Boring, but intimate. My mind is in a haze, and my shirts are stained with blood. I try to remember what happened to my sense of desire. We float on together, somehow together. This is not to last. Although I know this, I deceive myself.
I don't know who I am, and you say 'I love you'. Which me do you love? The junkie? I try to think back. When did you first say those sacred words? I think it was after I started to bruise my veins with the nectar(Venom?) of the dragons. It's not really important, I've never been just one person. There is who I choose to be, and nothing else. A collections of masks. I've named them. Is this normal? Mental Note: Ask around and see if others do this.
Hi, my name is Marlow, and I'm an Alcoholic. Is it bad if you introduce yourself with a lie? I'm not an alcoholic, but it looks better if I go to AA. My lawyer recommends it, and he know something about how judges view people like me. Be repentant, be regretful, be remorseful, be anything but yourself. That's how you avoid jail, you grift your way through it, whether you want to fuck or not be fucked the trick is the same, to lie your ass off.
All the passage ways to my heart are clogged by now, I get jealous of people with good veins. There seems to be no way back. I will find you some day. They say youre dead, but I know you're just hiding. Those stupid salf-pitying little games you play, I see right through them. I will catch you, and then all will be fine.
Tom Petty's poetry fills the crowded air. The monotony is palatable. It tasted nostalgic. Like my childhood almost. Boring, but intimate. My mind is in a haze, and my shirts are stained with blood. I try to remember what happened to my sense of desire. We float on together, somehow together. This is not to last. Although I know this, I deceive myself.
I don't know who I am, and you say 'I love you'. Which me do you love? The junkie? I try to think back. When did you first say those sacred words? I think it was after I started to bruise my veins with the nectar(Venom?) of the dragons. It's not really important, I've never been just one person. There is who I choose to be, and nothing else. A collections of masks. I've named them. Is this normal? Mental Note: Ask around and see if others do this.
Hi, my name is Marlow, and I'm an Alcoholic. Is it bad if you introduce yourself with a lie? I'm not an alcoholic, but it looks better if I go to AA. My lawyer recommends it, and he know something about how judges view people like me. Be repentant, be regretful, be remorseful, be anything but yourself. That's how you avoid jail, you grift your way through it, whether you want to fuck or not be fucked the trick is the same, to lie your ass off.
All the passage ways to my heart are clogged by now, I get jealous of people with good veins. There seems to be no way back. I will find you some day. They say youre dead, but I know you're just hiding. Those stupid salf-pitying little games you play, I see right through them. I will catch you, and then all will be fine.