I’m ready for something, to shake up, to move me, 

To press me and feel me and bring me around. 

I’m tired of pushing on through through the days, 

I’m tired of wading and waiting the same. 

Sameness is killer. Sameness is hate. 

Too many words, all making sense. 

Too many words, all in my head. 

A veil has been drawn, over the sun.

The world’s how we see it and how I see it is wrong. 

Trip me, I’m running. 

Drown me, I’m swimming. 

Hang me, I’m dangling

Over the edge and over the pit. 

Teeth at the bottom and inside my head, 

Biting and tearing and ripping and dread. 

Too many noises, melodic and pretty. 

Bring on the chaos. 

The jumbled and 

sounds 

that are noises and

rhythm 

that’s lacking

stop backing

this concept of free

Drowned in emotion. 

Searching for feeling. 

Missing the meaning. 

Hang me, I’m drowning. 

Trip me, I’m falling. 

Stop me, I’m sitting. 

Imagine, I’m dreaming. 

Bring on the noise. 

Ugh.

Why is it that I always remember not too drink too much, AFTER I drink too much?

I know I don’t post very often, but who out there still reads this? Send me a shoutout as a message!

The impossible’s possible.

But there is the possibility that in making such a thing possible, you eliminate other possible possibilities. Who’s to say the impossible’s plausible? Just because it’s possible doesn’t mean you should do it. And if it’s IMpossible, why would you expend the energy to possibly plausibly do it?

An impossible situation.

I’m going to bed.

memorias-demisputastristes:

autumnovertures:

Now, look at this:

That’s “Paul Mounet”, a french actor, who “died” in 1922.

His body never was found.

Then, look at this:

An unknown man, painted in 1530 by Parmigianino.

Compare them:

I KNEW IT.

Hahahahahahahahahaha

(Source: vazerick, via title-goes-here-deactivated2011)

Too many ideas. 

The worlds in my head are better than the one we’re in. 

Too many thoughts, only one mind. 

Looking around 

sure of what I’ll find. 

Too many thoughts,

too many minds

Too many thoughts, 

You wouldn’t care

Never you mind. 

Dig right in

Pull them out

Too many thoughts

Too many thoughts. 

Pull right in

Dig right out. 

Fingers claws nails and claws

Hammers, claws, iron clad

legal clause. 

Something’s wrong. 

Something’s up. 

Too many thoughts

all in my head

Too many thoughts

i’d rather be dead

Don’t want to die

don’t make me die

too many die

not many try

make me hurt 

make you cry

stop it

stop

stop.