sometimes...
sometimes i'm me
sometimes i'm mean
sometimes i'm a weirdo
sometimes i'm nice and normal
i know i'm bright not humble
now days who knows?
no body shows no
weakness.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
why i'm mean.
sometimes i confuse mean with funny.
sometimes mean funny is good.
most times it's just awkward.
my family is always mean but loving funny.
i wish more people would get it.
sometimes mean funny is good.
most times it's just awkward.
my family is always mean but loving funny.
i wish more people would get it.
there is something we're hiding from. don't let them fool you with the common shit. it's not yourself. it's not your past. it's not your future. it's not commitment.
it's the
Left
Un-
Done
i felt the need for unavoidable rhythmic pause. sorry.
it's so much the undone that you can't even think to mourn it.
until you're mourning something else. then here comes regret.
it's usually gentle for me, i guess, for the most part. or i handle it.
but i don't think i've ever had a mourning that cut me. maybe my dog. i mean i know it did at the time. but i also feel bad mourning my dog more than any person i've known who has died. i don't get to know many people personally.
which sucks.
i don't know why. i try or i kinda try. so i guess i do know why. i want people to approach me. and they never do. it's weird. i have no idea how people see me until i make myself known. and not so much even then.
it's the
Left
Un-
Done
i felt the need for unavoidable rhythmic pause. sorry.
it's so much the undone that you can't even think to mourn it.
until you're mourning something else. then here comes regret.
it's usually gentle for me, i guess, for the most part. or i handle it.
but i don't think i've ever had a mourning that cut me. maybe my dog. i mean i know it did at the time. but i also feel bad mourning my dog more than any person i've known who has died. i don't get to know many people personally.
which sucks.
i don't know why. i try or i kinda try. so i guess i do know why. i want people to approach me. and they never do. it's weird. i have no idea how people see me until i make myself known. and not so much even then.
was that all?
i feel there was something more. more important. life or death? no. i guess not. but important nonetheless.
sometimes i feel like i know myself better than ever. and sometimes i feel like there's a world i'm hidng from. and maybe nothings so wrong with that.
but of course there is. what's the world without the world?
common. fucking. sense.
or jibberish.
i can never tell when i'm the one talking.
either i don't have anything to say anymore or everything i have to say is hiding.
i'll wait. i'm patient.
and i always loved and hated hide-and-go-seek.
it's right there on the edge. i'm warm with the thinking of it.
i'm also tired. tired of sucking in my breath. tired of waiting for my clearing.
i almost wrote something. then i didn't. then i forgot it. always write it.
sometimes i feel like i know myself better than ever. and sometimes i feel like there's a world i'm hidng from. and maybe nothings so wrong with that.
but of course there is. what's the world without the world?
common. fucking. sense.
or jibberish.
i can never tell when i'm the one talking.
either i don't have anything to say anymore or everything i have to say is hiding.
i'll wait. i'm patient.
and i always loved and hated hide-and-go-seek.
it's right there on the edge. i'm warm with the thinking of it.
i'm also tired. tired of sucking in my breath. tired of waiting for my clearing.
i almost wrote something. then i didn't. then i forgot it. always write it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)