And like a stone I fell. Nothing quite the same. Knowing stillness, I paced myself. Falling fast. Head first. The best thing I've known. It's not so bad. Falling. The fear of crashing, crumbling into pieces. This seems the way to go. Missing the experience that brought fear to life. Stubborn. Like a stone. These cobwebs thrown to the wind. Finding each breath more desirable than the next. A feeling that I've waited for. Sitting still. Like a rock. Afraid to fly. Until you came along. Shattered into a million pieces. The expectation of anything else. Without need to hide your hand
there are things i can't do anymore i've been doing all those things a lot lately
just can't stop every night the songs are played i've had enough but i would just have to do nothing or do something else
i'de like to be more descript but every night i inhale something lit and scott gimple just knows he is a better writer than Robert Kirkman every time he kills off the main character, the most integral part of the story, the whole reason for the story in the first place
Draw into the hope of a missing river, Forever forgetting forever isn't for everyone. I wish I had another choice in the city full of choices, I wish I had another city in the world full of cities. I see these cities as see through seas untamed by those who see me as an uncalmable tide. At the midnight calling, I become uncontrollable. Like the statue, I collect and decay through natural forces, Like the status, I force nature to collect and decay. Poetic justice, No this just is poetic. Moments put into words that give rise to the false trigger of five senses that the consensus claims can't be sensed through anything but reality. The dream through words escapes the world in which limits are locked to five senses. Nonsense to university, No sense to individuality. This creates the individual. And their spirit lives in the flow of the Phoenix song, Lamented in the night air.