Life is a cycle with a lot of revolving bits and pieces that are always changing in a million different ways; separating and joining. But it’s all a cycle and everything is made of the same stuff with the same energy in life and death.
What if I don’t have any answers?
What if I don’t ever know anything that’s true?
Does that bug you like it bugs me too?
Why am I so tired? My spirit is so low and dies with the trees and I feel the disease of human kind. Not so kind. Staring into the fate of the blind. We’re all so blind. So blind.so blind.
Your own apathy was taught to you by the system that raised you.
Defy the system.
Life is a cycle with a lot of revolving bits and pieces that are always changing in a million different ways, separating and joining. But it’s all a cycle and everything is made of the same stuff with the same energy in life and death.
If a virus kept its host alive it too could live.
But greed is more powerful.
Maybe we’re the same.
I’m floating above all the thoughts I’ve had today,
They’re all reflections of my environment. They’re not me. None of this feels like me. But I’m floating or sinking, it doesn’t matter.
Not sure how to stand or if I can stand this.
How do you stand this?
I ask my mom how she stands this every day and lives this;
How she bears the truths because this hurts,
I don’t want people to hurt.
It all seems cruel and fixable but far away and I’m so sorry.
I’m sorry my existence means you’re dead and in pain and I make your children work for nothing.
All of this for nothing.
I need Nike shoes and an iPhone McDonald’s fries Starbucks coffee H&M death certificate and an Adidas coffin Tylenol tragedy and a Paxil Pixar movie in big lights oh how happy oh how bright. We love each other if you’re white. White. White washed. Poshed. How dare you ******* talk to me? Upper Echelon of society.
Tasteless, a tragedy. You’re killing me. I’m dead inside. We’re all dead inside. Dead inside. Dead inside.
Sometimes I wish I could disappear
They never guessed this would rip me in half,
This is ripping me in half.
But it’s fine,
It’s just fine.
I can’t get high anymore,
I can’t get high because I need more and more and more and it’s never enough. It’s never enough to forget.
It’s never enough to forgive.
I can taste the metal of a barrel.
I can taste the metal in my dreams—
this is all the life I’ll ever need.
He doesn’t talk much about where he came from;
maybe he’s scared the truth of the place would speak more than he could.
Maybe it’s hard to explain the hunger or the times the power goes off or the constant fear to someone who’s flown above it all.
Though we don’t talk about the sand or the fruit on the trees or what the rain feels like at the end of the day either.
We’ve lived moment to moment and learned what we know of each other through the present.
Somehow I yearn for this place I’ve gathered pieces of. The place I cannot know but that grew inside me.