I Really Dodged That Bullet

Too many days turning into nights.
Too many wrongs turning in to rights.
Searching for a reason to escape.
It's easy when the truth just walks away.

You get caught up. So easily. What people say about it. How people act towards it. Do I miss it? Not really. But seeing a picture of you, awakens. What it awakens is a different story. Seeing a picture. Those big blue eyes and the moment they met mine. I knew it wouldn't work though. Maybe I've realized that it was me. I'm really not sure. I know that if it was supposed to it would have. Things in life happen for a reason. I am not a religion. Or religious. Two people never made up one. This isn't the way I need you anymore. I'm an independent person. In a way that. Shows. I am that way on the outside. But really I am depending on myself to find someone to. Depend. On.

I can't handle people like that. Maybe that's why we didn't work. You never had a set opinion. And apparently I became a bitch. You need to wake up. And stop living in your little hole. People have no fucking clue. Creative expression is merely a carbon copy of everything else. Nothing these days is original. Cause if you're leaving me now. I'll probably be ok. On the outside.

Back to school. Back to school. To prove to Daddy I'm not a fool.

I should not have looked at those pictures. I'm glad I'm not there. I tell myself I'm trying to move on. But I see no outcome. No final celebration. Why? Because I have not completed anything. Well I felt that way till this week. But always one step forwards three steps back. I play the game bitches. The game is my bitch. I talked to a few people who made me realize a lot. Not a lot of people say they want to get into the business. They want in the industry. I will always remember your face when I said that. They way your cardigan felt. I need those pictures.

I found it ironic that he was hit by a dodge.

My video from last night won't load. That makes me sad. For I discussed much about creativity. The thing that makes me hate the world the most. Are the boundaries. How can you fucking put boundaries on creative expression. People never know. I wish I could have stopped you before I left. I remember one day walking down the stairs. Talking to my mom. And she said use your real voice. And I got really confused. I was probably 11. I realized I didn't know who it is, that I was. I still don't. But since then I've always wondered when do we know its real. It's no longer the facade. I don't. I've somehow lost myself. All this time. Hiding behind the mask. I know what to say. At the right time. How to act. How to position myself. This is just the part I portray.

Want to start over again? Like I ever wanted to be any different. One day that will be you. It scares the shit out of me, to realize that one day. I will move out. I will depend on myself. Your black and white needs a little bit of red.

I'm kind of over that. I've seen something so much purer. Someone. Someone who doesn't hide behind a mask. I don't want to have to go through what you did to achieve that peace. Part of me is scared to collect the pieces. To create the peace. It's not so much as broken. But tipping on the edge of the table. An addict at 17. An eating disorder once you thought you had everyone fooled.

I walked a thousand miles while everyone was asleep. To me. That statement is so literal. I've noticed. I can't stay in a place for long. I leave people. I just get up. Not to return. Everyone after elementary. Stagestruck. Summerstock. Maybe that's my addiction. Ever realized that maybe. We get so used to pain. We begin to inflict it upon ourselves. Because we begin to believe that there is not true happiness. That once a glimpse of happiness is shown. Only depression can be lived. We don't know how to live without the suffering. Therefore we just continue suffering. We continue suffering for the art.

I can't fix your broken heart. But I can give you a brand new start. That is such a fucking lie. Life does not refresh itself. You can't just delete the cookie and browser history. You will always remember. Noises may fade. Touch does not. Somedays it opposite. Shit that should have been for some people. Fuck we're getting personal again. Everyone take cover. Emotions might occur. How do we deal with that? What is that? CNN HELP US! Oh gawd Larry King is crying. What is this? Who will save us? Forget about the addicts. You're not hiding from a problem. You are fighting the sharks of life. You will not slip into the dark waters.

people used to make records
as in a record of an event
the event of people playing music in a room
now everything is cross-marketing
its about sunglasses and shoes
or guns and drugs
you choose

I told you once, I told you twice. Have you no ears, have you no eyes? If this is love than what is hate? Do you understand my fate? Oh I'm not broken you can't fix me. Wish I had a man to miss. Tell me everything will be alright.

It's all a wake up call. The sad part is no one sees it. Which wake up call do we respond to. Which will take us out of our a coma? Will any? What the fuck is this?

This just went from being about a boy, to me, to dark areas, to whatever the fuck that was. You just read it. Did you wake up? No. Now click the browser. Go watch the news. Make supper. Hi honey, how was your day? Next time someone asks. Really tell them. Be like well actually I'm having the worst day possible, I wish tomorrow could start already. Watch how they back off. How they climb into their hole. Watch how the world reacts. It will want to make you crawl back into your hole. But wait I thought I was living out of the box. No one fucking lives out of the box. Stop being inspired by milk commercials! It's fucking marketing. How easily you succumb to it all. Now you think you're aware. You're like oh shit that makes sense. Now close the window and go back. Go back to your hole in the world. Don't worry about it.

Love,
I'm out for it. Weapons and all.