my friend Tristan made this for me
Death: of a feeling
I just woke up. It was two-thirty in the morning and my friend came in to turn on the a/c, check on me- standard drunk friend procedure. Took off my shoes, I pretended to sleep so I could enjoy the quiet comfort, feeling him care without embarrassing him- you know the drill.
I think that’s when it hit me, the sound of the pistons and the pumps and the gears of the freight train bashing through the center of my head ,that must had turned into some numb roar, started to slow, and slow and then it stopped.
I was confused.
It was too quiet. It was as if someone had flipped a switch and the humming in my brain turned off like a power outage.
And then, before I had a choice, it was born. The first original thought I had had in the last god knows how long- What the fuck am I going to do now?
self-aware, fair is fair
If you think you know, you know
If you think you don’t, you don’t
Plant ten seeds and praise the one that grows
It’s not that I can’t, it’s that I won’t
In my room alone, I glow
In my room alone, I glow
Kshhhhhhhh
You’re crazy from living everyday the same
That’s why you’ve got to get straight
And remember why you came
You’re tired of being angry and ashamed
That’s why you’ve got to get lost
And forget the stupid failures on your face
You’ve got to give yourself a name
I had to break my body down
To know it wasn’t me
Didn’t you?
I had to destroy my mind
To get lost in poisoned hills, reprieved
You’ll run and never get you
You’ll beg but won’t forget you
Never a wink of sleep, or a breath of honesty
A room and a chair, and a wall to stare
You’ve got to give yourself a name
I’ll leave this prison in the morning
You’ll look but I won’t be there, reprieved, nothing to perceive
Awake among the asleep, I’ll let the shepard be alone with his sheep
You’re crazy from living very life the same
That’s why you’ve got to get pure
And remember you’re the same
You’ve got to give yourself a name
ffffffffffffft
I don’t need the same things
It’s just useless stimulation
In some perfect situation
You lack the eyes before the taste
I don’t need your useless information
I’m dead from your stupid observations
I need my own space
I need a real place
I mean, there has surely has got to be one
One simple, stupid reason
Maybe now, what I need, is just to see one
