ever get the feeling you're
repeating yourself?

my life operates on a two
week cycle with her

Longing for two days
Silence for ten
Consolation for two days.

ever get the feeling you're
repeating yourself?

my life is an endless hell
of Deja, Deja, Deja
vu.

My old friend has just gone mad
seems his sanity was all he had
little white pills kept his sickness at bay
and now I'm unsure if he'll live through the day.

twas a matter of time before he lost his mind
he's searched everywhere but can't seem to find
anything that makes him feel alive inside
and I'll awake tomorrow to find that he's died.

it's a tragic event
and all time spent
trying to make this life count
will surely seem to barely amount
to anything quantitative

and so in this poem i pray
my old friend will live another day
if for no other reason than to *** a cigarette.

Bukowski once said
that real loneliness
doesn't mean being
alone
And my god if being
surrounded by 26,000 strangers
doesn't make me brutally understand that.

The feelings came from someplace inside myself that I thought I'd lost.
And though we've known each other for some time, they just now become active.
I can't make sense of it.

And now the fire seeks to claim my better senses
passion overwhelming my calm demeanor
flooding out my logic and replace it with emotion

I thought I would want 1000 strangers.
Instead all I can dream about is you.

Sometimes I feel like I'm in a
little
glass box with words on the outside
that read:
"In Case of Emergency, Break Glass"

That vision of beauty will come
weeping
and break the glass; temporary freeing
me; Enthusiastically
I calm the sadness built in her heart

But alas, after the winds have calmed,
Serenity
My dear will place me back into my little
Glass Box;
And there I will patiently await her return.

And so the world changed.
With people vicariously living through the 'net.
No longer would people spend 300+ hours writing a novel,
Instead they would write you an article telling you the 10 best ways to focus on character develop.
People couldn't focus long enough to bake a cake,
but could tell you the top 8 secrets to a dazzling icing.
People wouldn't touch an instrument to create music,
but instead would read about the three tricks to get good at guitar in a week.

People would talktalktalktalktalktalktalk and writewritewritewritewritewrite about life.

But no one could live it any more.

I want you for a night,
I want to drink a red wine with you,
even though I would have preferred *****.
I want to drink and feel alive with you for the night,
a night of passion and long, long hair.

I want to wake up early, uncharacteristically.
next to you.
I would find a piano
and hand you your guitar,
We would make music in the afternoon.
And in the night?
Do it again.