shit from my old journal
Some of this might be on here already but i am too lazy to check.
I've done my part, i've found her.
I've earned and burned and lost what it cost.
Me, this is not your movie script ending.
you won't get what you want.
you won't express your love, your self separated.
you'll write something beautiful, about as fast as me.
Just as fast, it'll be ugly.
Oblivious, you paint your own world.
You paint your life all around you.
You paint your world, with words.
Backwards phrases(disembodies lives) gathering dust in your attic.
This is your life.
this life, this death, this kite, this tortuiose
shell.
If this is your movie scriopt ending.
It's a happily ever after
tragedy.
Your happily ever
imagination.
()()()()()()()
nothing's sacred
we are all just caught up in a world of debauchery drugs sex and lies
people used to have ideas and try to understand things
now we have ideals that make us try to control everything
nothing can be allowed to be pure, everything has to have the world seep into it and lay it's cyst
blood ties are pulled apart and even blood is deadly
i mean where the fuck did our value of human life fucking go!!?
killing for killing and death for death, we are not advanced anymore
we are devolving into our separate primitive urges and they are lying to us
i wish i had been born, could have been born 100 years ago
when ideas flourished and words held truth
when anything could mean something
instead of nothing meaning anything
yes we have technology but we take it for granted
we can cure diseases and heal and save lives but we kill 10 for each one saved
we have explored everywhere but we have destroyed where we went
we are bringing our world to it's knees trying to rise above it
but that is impossible
nothing means anything, nothing is sacred, nothing is pure
but only because we won't let it be
we can't
we are afraid of such thoughts
i just want purity
in something
in anything
only birth and death is consistently pure
everyone "loves" everyone else without ever thinking of what that words means, what it entails
it has commitment to it
but we are afraid of commitment
we are committed only to ourselves and then in such a masochistic way that we are destroyed before we know what the words we speak mean
we don't have points of view
they are given to us
crammed into us like so many decadent pills
we are shut into houses for so long, our lives rotting inside us until we are deemed capable of living on our own and by that time those who have rejected the basic system have made their own stupid and pointless belief system and those who have not done either will live mundane lives looking through windows out onto a world they hold in contempt but cannot leave
Terminal Error: Thought Abortion
()()()()()()()()()()()
We never looked at one another.
Together days were minutes.
hours were years.
I slept with my back to a wall and never once though of what that meant.
The ceiling loomed closer and i awoke daily to rise before the morn.
She slept til noon and complained of tiredness.
The tick-tock clock strikes four
blow for blow
Astronauts dance on the moon i keep my television and a couple walk by, under the window, looking out onto a brick wall.
Does the sun shine for the moon then? or is the moon like a cat burglar sneaking silver spoons.
We never hugged in relation
our hand holding held us together more by habit
all our conversations are in english but my side speaks dutch, my side speaks dutch
I've done my part, i've found her.
I've earned and burned and lost what it cost.
Me, this is not your movie script ending.
you won't get what you want.
you won't express your love, your self separated.
you'll write something beautiful, about as fast as me.
Just as fast, it'll be ugly.
Oblivious, you paint your own world.
You paint your life all around you.
You paint your world, with words.
Backwards phrases(disembodies lives) gathering dust in your attic.
This is your life.
this life, this death, this kite, this tortuiose
shell.
If this is your movie scriopt ending.
It's a happily ever after
tragedy.
Your happily ever
imagination.
()()()()()()()
nothing's sacred
we are all just caught up in a world of debauchery drugs sex and lies
people used to have ideas and try to understand things
now we have ideals that make us try to control everything
nothing can be allowed to be pure, everything has to have the world seep into it and lay it's cyst
blood ties are pulled apart and even blood is deadly
i mean where the fuck did our value of human life fucking go!!?
killing for killing and death for death, we are not advanced anymore
we are devolving into our separate primitive urges and they are lying to us
i wish i had been born, could have been born 100 years ago
when ideas flourished and words held truth
when anything could mean something
instead of nothing meaning anything
yes we have technology but we take it for granted
we can cure diseases and heal and save lives but we kill 10 for each one saved
we have explored everywhere but we have destroyed where we went
we are bringing our world to it's knees trying to rise above it
but that is impossible
nothing means anything, nothing is sacred, nothing is pure
but only because we won't let it be
we can't
we are afraid of such thoughts
i just want purity
in something
in anything
only birth and death is consistently pure
everyone "loves" everyone else without ever thinking of what that words means, what it entails
it has commitment to it
but we are afraid of commitment
we are committed only to ourselves and then in such a masochistic way that we are destroyed before we know what the words we speak mean
we don't have points of view
they are given to us
crammed into us like so many decadent pills
we are shut into houses for so long, our lives rotting inside us until we are deemed capable of living on our own and by that time those who have rejected the basic system have made their own stupid and pointless belief system and those who have not done either will live mundane lives looking through windows out onto a world they hold in contempt but cannot leave
Terminal Error: Thought Abortion
()()()()()()()()()()()
We never looked at one another.
Together days were minutes.
hours were years.
I slept with my back to a wall and never once though of what that meant.
The ceiling loomed closer and i awoke daily to rise before the morn.
She slept til noon and complained of tiredness.
The tick-tock clock strikes four
blow for blow
Astronauts dance on the moon i keep my television and a couple walk by, under the window, looking out onto a brick wall.
Does the sun shine for the moon then? or is the moon like a cat burglar sneaking silver spoons.
We never hugged in relation
our hand holding held us together more by habit
all our conversations are in english but my side speaks dutch, my side speaks dutch