22 March 2009

think

she speaks quickly. seeming to deliberately avoid pronunciation of each syllable, inable to sound-out-words. verbally.
everything is in her mind. the best way out is on paper. or, keyboard.
she's a mess. and a disaster.
life was a straight path for a moment. no bumps, cracks...
now it seems she's approached a huge, menacing STOP SIGN.
after the sign, there's a gap in the road. gaping wide open and disturbingly inviting.
every
single
line
inches her
CLOSER
and CLOSER
to the fall.
who is she? where is she going? when will this end?

there's a justification to every fuck-up, every mistake.
i know what i'm doing, i just don't know how to stop.

05 March 2009

clamburger

i am justified in everything i say, do, and feel.
even when i am wrong.

this is because i am me, and i don't care about you. you, you, and especially you, or what you think.

the artist gone wrong, the rambler, the pessimist, the heart breaker.

i love to use, but not to be used.
i love to chase, but if you chase me i'll run away, and you'll never catch me.

so what if i lie? so what if i drink and smoke and stuff?
so what if i say things i don't mean, and even more, so what if i say fucked up shit that i do mean?


who cares?

i love to watch movies over and over and over. and i leave good songs on repeat. yes, and i do it, just to annoy the living hell out of everyone.
if you don't like it, take a hike.

or eat my clamburger.

either way, i win.