friends sing so sweetly and I fall in love with the serenade. it's m i s l e a ding if you act before you think and then spend all your time thinking about which move to make next.
I think progress starts at two points: the beginning and the ending. everything and nothing.
One thing to make me feel something and another to destroy me.
I've given up on trying to be friendly and gone straight for that same bitter harsh of honesty that got me in so much trouble before that I forgot existed because I let myself slip rather than pushing out what I knew wasn't good for me.
wanting to please everyone. loving the pleasure in pain, got lost in it, got distracted, became detached in the same direction more than once and became less than I should more than I should.
it's a swallowing of seeds without chewing. with all this stimulation brewing around the stitching of my pocket, crooked lines, a few things slipped out.
marbles in the kitchen, in the bathroom, on the floor. you carried me up and down stairs. cried when I loved you and screamed when I stopped.
But you didn't stop ramming jamming jerking thinking sneezing wheezing leaving thoughts behind.
Helping remove your mind I tried to look inside. Your ego ****** you into a black hole of questioning. Left me answering that there was nothing left of me. Found myself in the absence of bored and forgetful silence.
The ending is the beginning for me.
right now it's all finally happening right now the moment's been festering