the things I wanna see the things I wanna be the fragrance and what seems to appear when my mind creates what isn't there just look away and feel no despair i'll never be anything to "you" no that I know you, I actually have no clue
and my mind will rot away, discovering more to know less what I dine for is never sane at least for you, your at one point quenched but for me, the drive is from getting lost I always thirst for more
out of ignorance once I bore a cup of sand I once held the gratitude I had was hidden from my conscience but one day I stumbled upon a beach the sand in my hand no longer the same for me I tried dropping the sand into its place I observed a rejection of tension I switched what was in my cup I couldn't bear no more I need a sand box I need more even if I owned one though it could only be no more to me this pattern of reality it crinkles me as I can't live without it
how can I explain? only what I wrote while chilling in a coffee house above can hopefully connect with you. if not-then i'm sorry for your waste of time. I go deep. either it's a vague piece of garbage or one can somehow relate