incomplete and obsolete. the agony and ecstasy of living my life with my head screwed on backwards; with the veins in my brain wired wrong; with the blood and the bleed and the bled; with all the things i’ve never said. it’s all left and right and wrong. there is pleasure in this pain. you don’t have a head until you’ve been hung. you don’t have anything until you’ve lost it all. give it all away. the things that matter, don’t. run, run, run as fast as you can. poke your eye until you cry. you could have it all. this empire of lust and life and greed and gluttony. love yourself because in the end it’s just you and whoever is in your head.
I never really know what’s on my mind. I find it difficult to separate thoughts, ideas and images from darkness and solitude. My mind is another being, and my body is purely under its control. Right now, i’m trying so hard to squeeze any sense and any rationality into this answer that I feel as though I have ventured far away from where i’m supposed to be. I don’t know where i’m supposed to be.
No comments:
Post a Comment