you want to stick
around don't you?

you wanna be part
of our crowd?

well you gotta
learn something now;
it's painful like ****

you'll never be one of us
you'll never be one of us

don't ask and don't try
a second time
we know your family
we know where you live

we won't say a word:

omertà

Logical doesn’t have taste. It has circumstance. Only to be tasteful, is to be surrounded by a taste of what gradually makes a self importance greater to yourself. Proudly underestimating yourself at first. Giving closure to the surrounding areas. Taste has no boundaries here. A made-up friction. A made-up functionality. A dripping faucet without clarity. Dripping one social taste at any given time. Clarity giving rise to the surrounding areas with logical ingredients. Logical ingredients slapping taste buds without concern for logical praise. Logical praise that doubts it’s understanding of taste buds giving praise to ingredients without concern for how praise will affect it’s priorities. Priorities finishing the diversity of something logical with a taste. The taste buds feeling the diversities finalizing ingredients in their rightful places. Like shiny white plates on display for the crowd of praises effecting one’s own priorities. Teeth whitening the taste buds for greater effect. Praises finally giving the logical praise the taste it deserves. More surrounding areas include a broader crowd. A newer logical taste starts to emerge in the practice of ingredients giving logical praise to the logical priorities that govern it so. Praise from newer surroundings influencing more ingredients in the form of logical taste. More taste buds start feeling the diversities in the praise which salivates the practice of logical assessments. A reverse act giving rise to a simplified logical taste without boundaries.

May take a bit to come down from seclusion.
Climbing for a gain, knew what I was losing.
It's on the T that time is balanced,
and I've seen it cemented.
It's on the scene with all the extras,
and I've seen myself in the crowd.

It is all about how we think
We fall towards what we lose
We love the one who is unreachable
We tend to forget who stays in front of us
We regret the chances we don’t take
We met the people who didn’t mean to remain
We touch the sky and hit the ground
We stand up again and lost in a crowd

I am yours in the first month of fall when the trees begin to dance their autumn song.
I am yours when the sun smothers your cheeks and I envy the way it kisses you.
I am yours when December air pulls against your lips and sends shivers down your spine.
I am yours in the crowd of a million people and I am especially yours when the silence of your solace drives you mad.
I love you.
and I am yours.

the people
the.. bodies
the humans..
the faces,
too many
too many faces.

I thought maybe I would be okay,
that I can do this on my own,
but my mind betrays me once again,
my lungs and heart go faster than I can carry them.

there's no way out,
I'm in too deep
yes I'm drowning

but nothing
can save me .