When Breathing's A Burden We All Have To Bear, And Trust Is One Thing We're Taught Never To Share
Myspace is the new Blogger. I'm addicted. It's really quite sad. I rarely blog anymore. Mostly because nothing really changes in my life lately, so I have nothing to blog about of any importance. Nothing to rant about, no relationships to bitch about, nothing. Anyway I got drunk the other night alone and wrote crappy poetry.....so yeah.
Your hands,
they tremble
as they open the bottle.
When did everything get so-
so fucked up?
Yes, fucked up.
Does anything ever stay the same?
I wish I could be an artist,
create something beautiful
shapes and colors intertwined
spewed across the page.
Black for a drunk day
Purple for the sober
It burns going down your throat,
you know-
the alcohol.
Rum, gin, vodka-
they’re all the same.
I’m not an alcoholic.
Alcoholics are fat men,
on street corners
with the perpetual five o’clock shadow.
Not nineteen year-old-girls
who are just waiting-
waiting for their lives to begin.
I’m so tired of waiting for my life to start.
All I hear in my mind,
“What do you want to do with your life?”
The pressure
to accomplish something
to BE someone-
is overwhelming.
The pressure to create something,
however,
is almost nonexistent.
There is so much awful in this world.
What would it be like to create,
something beautiful?
The world
is so full of cynical people
the world sucks
people fucking suck
well, it's true
Your hands,
they tremble
as they open the bottle.
When did everything get so-
so fucked up?
Yes, fucked up.
Does anything ever stay the same?
I wish I could be an artist,
create something beautiful
shapes and colors intertwined
spewed across the page.
Black for a drunk day
Purple for the sober
It burns going down your throat,
you know-
the alcohol.
Rum, gin, vodka-
they’re all the same.
I’m not an alcoholic.
Alcoholics are fat men,
on street corners
with the perpetual five o’clock shadow.
Not nineteen year-old-girls
who are just waiting-
waiting for their lives to begin.
I’m so tired of waiting for my life to start.
All I hear in my mind,
“What do you want to do with your life?”
The pressure
to accomplish something
to BE someone-
is overwhelming.
The pressure to create something,
however,
is almost nonexistent.
There is so much awful in this world.
What would it be like to create,
something beautiful?
The world
is so full of cynical people
the world sucks
people fucking suck
well, it's true