so I just want to start this post by clearing a few things up.
first off, everything I write on here is mine.
unless in quotes (like above) I wrote it.
some of the things are spontaneous,
and some are carefully selected.
some have titles & some don't.
but I'm also using this as a everyday journal.
so things are going to seem a little mixed up,
but take it for what it is.
another day alone in the parents big empty house.
lights, camera, BANG!
a split second action and a lifelong plea.
you move through the surface like nothing.
& push through the seams like a miserable dream.
surreality or fact or falacy,
or the space between the figure and the gun.
hide the truth in lies or create a story in disguise.
just as long as you don't prove me wrong.
it was you, it was always you.
oh bullet, my bullet.
i plead to you tonight.
take this life of vain.
cheating. lies. and pain.
and make this boy whole again.
whole, in pieces on your wall.
my first most cherished piece broke last night,
no idea how.
stupidly lent it to some friends,
now the top is broken on either side.
I'm gunna miss that guy.
he didn't even have a name.
call me sick if i need help.
get the doctor! get the nurse!
call me crazy once i'm gone.
call the priest, the bride, & the church.
pages in books once believed to be true,
burnt up and swept away.
often told the story of me and you,
our rise, our fall, our decay.
it was you, it was always you.
the storm of your life:
moving through the fields with a lack of feeling.
careful not to get hit, but not caring.
watching the strikes, watching your steps.
there is freedom in your seclusion.
there is a shelter in your nothing.
if a prision was this empty,
they would call it a home.
running slowly,
walking fast.
chasing a fate most people would hate,
but one that everyone secretly longs for.
what doesn't kill you,
only makes you
stronger.
alright, time to eat.
I think I'm gunna bust out some of my ol' cooking skills and make a meal.
gotta love sunday mornings.
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