I've ventured to places far off the map and crumpled the paper upon compleating the draft. Spent time from home with some souls mismatched, though it beats hanging high with aristocrats.
I'm at a point in my life, thoroughly stated.
And also perceived, you can see that I'm stationed. I've got pain, and my dreams also intermixed. I've got rage and desire when I need a fix. I continue, and maybe for the love of it, or maybe just an avoidance of loneliness. See it comes to a halt when the hail storm hits. And ill rise out the vault when that tumblers shift.
At times I feel shallow, not so straight and narrow. Invoking fear in the wild like a scarecrow. I'm so uncondusive an awful pollutant until I see through this route of confusion. Damn. All of this when I started so strong just a dance slow and stiff then I'm suddenly gone.
Dissapearing isn't to become invisible, its to have feelings peak while they are minimal. Its to let life slowly creep from in front of you and instead what's ahead becomes number two. Damn.
Its to lose sight and focus and be traumatized. Its to feel low and empty and act dramatized. Its just where I'm at, where I'm planning to stay. My day becomes filled but little fills me. But I guess at its end that That's alright I never did have much an appetite. And at the end of it all ill pay the price, hit the switch spit the gift and connect back with life. If you have another opinion you can put it on ice. I'm not arguing the difference of the black and white.
