Rarely have I seen the ones that move and waiver the uniform thoughts of conformity, who will not be patronised by others’ thoughts and ways. Rarely have I seen the ones who feels obligated to feel unique, who calibrate their friends based on their thoughts – I see plenty though of ones that define us …
Fuck the they, the them, the those. The people that think too hard about what they want to say, The ones talk quietly together and conspire gently. The people that not my friends, who decide I am. The jumpsuit personalities and the misguided or deluded theories of trust, love or sucess. Fuck all these things …
Lonely, the wind is in my hair. Waiting for something their, nothing seems fair. Duos riddle my sights, as I plough through the dense medium of love. wondering about the sights that gaze apon me – alone. Sometimes I wonder if being alone is the most complicated of lifes processes, of finding what we are …
I’m allowed to be fucked off, I’m allowed to be cold, angry, noresponsive and far away, I’m allowed to be alone, I’am allowed to want to be, I’m alllowed to be wrong, to decide what I think I want, I’m alowed to act strange and crazy and if it fucks with your mind – fine, …
stress! She knows. Dying right from the inner inside of begining, She knows me, she’s trying to find me – pushing through the night’s darknessm she’s moving through the brushes of my deepest forest towards me, my, mine, myself. stress. She’s comming. As the bare brushes brush her face, she pulls herself along, towards me, …
i ran away from you, before I knew, who you are? I ran from you, you you you you. I ran from you, because you came to me. I remember so nervously, thinking about you. Stay clear of me, baby – I’m not ready. I know you think, but this doesn’t worry me anymore – …
universally affected. by hiddeness, by cataclysmic goliaths that wisper the wind and defen my soul. by see-through, by things, by tendancies by thought. By emotion, a Colossal weathering rain of psychology. Affected by the idea of things that are, and things that were.
Sleep is uncomfortly dangling from the hooks attached to my eyelids, stretched I feel for resource. Alive and content but slow and medium to middle to fairly below.
I feel unresponsive, unresponsiblel, unfair, unfree, untidy, unless. Don’t touch me, I will not respond. Don’t touch me, I don’t want to respond. Don’t like me, I dont want to like you. Don’t hate me, I dont want to hate you. Dont ask me, I dont want to answer. Dont talk to me, I dont …
Gray, neutral, sympathetic distance,cold and then… you. My perfection of no form yet of potential. Can I understand? Gray my shirt, this morning – the transisition from nowwhere to somewhere unknown. Neutral like the gear that moves my car, from reverse into the parking position. Sympathetic distance, the space between me and you. Cold, your …