(no subject)
I'm writing in my journal, as I sit on the windowsill.
The sun is setting for the day, around nine o'clock it sets in may.The song bird across the street sings me a song, about how somthing can be beautiful when everything in the world is wrong.Or is that bird an illusion, but I'm sure he's in the tree.I don't think I can see him,and he doesn't think he sees me.Maybe the bird is just an appirition of the feelings in my heart. How can someone be so emotionless,cold and dark. I jump down from my perch and so does the bird. We look into each other and we begin to merge. How can I be lonely now, I have all the friends I need. I'm a piece of the bird, the bird a piece of me. Does that give me the ability to sing a beautiful song? Noone will know now, I raise the gun. bang. I'm gone.
The sun is setting for the day, around nine o'clock it sets in may.The song bird across the street sings me a song, about how somthing can be beautiful when everything in the world is wrong.Or is that bird an illusion, but I'm sure he's in the tree.I don't think I can see him,and he doesn't think he sees me.Maybe the bird is just an appirition of the feelings in my heart. How can someone be so emotionless,cold and dark. I jump down from my perch and so does the bird. We look into each other and we begin to merge. How can I be lonely now, I have all the friends I need. I'm a piece of the bird, the bird a piece of me. Does that give me the ability to sing a beautiful song? Noone will know now, I raise the gun. bang. I'm gone.