I care far less
About what people think of me
And far more
About what I think of myself.

we're all pretending to smell candles
loving people who don't love us
and wondering when it will end

do you ever read a book that wakes you up inside

The whole **** world is living in fear,
Mothers and children always shedding tears
For the daddies that are dead or gone;
But so much is going wrong
That we can't put out fingers on it.
All the rich ones
Who, with silver spoons, birth their sons,
Don't care whats going on in the street
Where even babies are packing heat
Cause every night they're getting beat or hit.
And forget about other countries
Where wars are beyond beastly,
And every other day there's a bomb
Making sure kids don't get home to mom
Unless its in bits.
So we pray for New York, DC, and Paris, France
But no one's making a move, or taking a chance.
And what about places like Syria,
That aren't getting sympathy from media?
But even in the US we like to omit
The kids going hungry
That are treated like debris,
And now the drugs are everywhere
But no one seems to care,
So **** it.

This little bag I hope will prove
To be not vainly made —
For, if you should a needle want
It will afford you aid.
And as we are about to part
T'will serve another end,
For when you look upon the Bag
You'll recollect your friend.

all the INTPs on the internet forums think us
ENFPs are crazy,
but the secret is: deep in your logical hearts,
behind the pretenses created by your ego,
and the smug superiority of the cold unfeeling,
you've blocked out the big picture,
so taken with the idea of analyzing that
you have not seen the layers upon layers of life
and forsaken cliches while forgetting,
there was a reason 'they' started saying them-
I am intelligent-
my emotions have been carefully processed
and approved, and the idea and truth
of emotions has been carefully processed and approved,
I have taken a look at life and poked around
in the bottom of it,
and determined my course of action-
I'm not here for logic or intelligence,
or to exist in a shell of my private world,
offering an occasional analysis of theoretical possibilities.
Logically, there is no real reason to do anything
fun or spiritual at all-
you can be completely alone and that is logical,
you can never leave the house and that is logical,
you can dislike most everything and that is logical,
look, if that's how you want to live your life,
and you're happy,
then fine; but the truth of the matter is,
you have a single life, and within it, you can choose
to be happy and live as fulfilled of an experience as possible.
it is illogical to waste the short years you've got.
it is illogical to spend them unhappy with your situation.
maybe it doesn't seem like wasting to you,
maybe you are happy disliking things,
but if you dislike something, doesn't that mean you
are unhappy with the presence of it?
it makes more logical sense to enjoy things and to
be filled with emotion,
(if you separate yourself and view objectively, that is)
a logical approach to day to day life kills emotion
but a logical approach to values makes you realize you desperately need it,
so if you can detach and apply to your existence as a whole-
there's a perfect reason to die and a perfect reason to live,
but the key is that living produces more endorphins.
so for my own sake,
and within my own values and truth and experience,
I'm here for the ride.