...The nightmare I've built my own world to escape."
Back at home. Unfortunately. I hope everytime I'm gone that all the fucked up things about this place will magically unfuck themselves, and I'll walk in to find a breifcase full of money stashed under the dresser or something. These are going to be the hardest couple months of my life, and I'll be the first to admit I'm completely unprepared. I'd love to be able to say "oh, yeah I have a plan. All I have to do is..." But that sentence has no ending. I don't know how I'm going to survive when I'm unable to get a job, but on the bright side, after this it'll all be over. It's hard not to put a bullet in my brain rather than just stick it out, but everyone feels that way at times, and I know it'll pass. It usually does. I think I'll write.
Forgiveness in solitude
Danger in notoriety.
You won't be my ending.
This isn't all of me.
You think you see, or somehow know, that my consciousness has limits.
It's tangible and I can reach out and touch its boundaries with my fingertips.
No you can't.
You haven't met the Other.
Part of me fights for perfection.
The Other part wants it demolished.
Just what did you think you held in store
or in your panties
for my heart of fool's gold?
Whatever you think,
You've got it wrong.
Every step I take towards happiness and companionship
Every agonizing, lethargic step,
is shadowed by an exact reversed echo from the Other.
One forward.
One back.
Thrice fucked.
You're welcome to sit at my right hand.
So long as you're sure its the right hand.
My shining armor is just duct taped cardboard.
And I'm not sure what's beneath it is much more.
But I was never built to last.
Just long enough to serve a purpose. |
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