Kill.
Sometimes, I sit around, and I think about losing someone. I've lost someone, a friend, a loved one, I think about really letting that effect me. It would hurt a lot, I wouldn't be able to function. You know you get the whole Christmas Carol thing going then, like "What would people do if I killed myself?" or "What would happened if I just got up and left one day?" Would people really care? Would you become a legend, or just a folklore? To sum it up, this is your fucking life, who do you want to be? Are you who are you want to be? If it's over for you?
It's funny, I don't know who I am...I mean, I know my name, and my birthday, and my social security number, but who am I exactly? I'm not going to get into it. Was my life worth it? Did I make the grade? Did I make a difference in anyone's life? Probably not, but not everyone's life is meaningful. The town I live in, the memories that I have, good and bad, mostly bad, but some good as well, the friends I have, and the friends I've had. The people I hate, and the people I can bear. Sometimes, I can't understand people, and the friends I'm with, we don't do normal things, we don't have decent relationships with each other, we're like co-workers without the titles.
Somewhere down the line, you have to cross a bridge, or for someone who's got bridge-0-phobia, walk across a street, a side street. Get to that other side, and leave everything behind, because that's what you have to do, if you want to become who you're destined to be. People will only drag you down, and losses will do the same, cut your losses, cut your ties, everyone who is sucessful is bound to be a loner for sometime before they find that one person who understands. That one person who understands everything that's foretold in your mine, the memories that you have back in the depths of your mind, that you'll never retrieve, because even now, you can't recall. You'll wake up one day, and just laugh. You'll cackle to yourself, and your wife or husband will ask you, "What's so funny?" and you'll have no idea, you were dreaming of your past life and now you can't remember what that dream was about. You lie back down, smiling, because somewhere deep in your heart, you know whatever it was, whatever that dream was about, it was hilarious.
It's funny, I don't know who I am...I mean, I know my name, and my birthday, and my social security number, but who am I exactly? I'm not going to get into it. Was my life worth it? Did I make the grade? Did I make a difference in anyone's life? Probably not, but not everyone's life is meaningful. The town I live in, the memories that I have, good and bad, mostly bad, but some good as well, the friends I have, and the friends I've had. The people I hate, and the people I can bear. Sometimes, I can't understand people, and the friends I'm with, we don't do normal things, we don't have decent relationships with each other, we're like co-workers without the titles.
Somewhere down the line, you have to cross a bridge, or for someone who's got bridge-0-phobia, walk across a street, a side street. Get to that other side, and leave everything behind, because that's what you have to do, if you want to become who you're destined to be. People will only drag you down, and losses will do the same, cut your losses, cut your ties, everyone who is sucessful is bound to be a loner for sometime before they find that one person who understands. That one person who understands everything that's foretold in your mine, the memories that you have back in the depths of your mind, that you'll never retrieve, because even now, you can't recall. You'll wake up one day, and just laugh. You'll cackle to yourself, and your wife or husband will ask you, "What's so funny?" and you'll have no idea, you were dreaming of your past life and now you can't remember what that dream was about. You lie back down, smiling, because somewhere deep in your heart, you know whatever it was, whatever that dream was about, it was hilarious.
Well, you're just across the street
Looks a mile to my feet
I wanna go to you
Funny how I'm nervous still
I've always been the easy kill
I guess I always will
Could it be that everything goes 'round by chance?
Or only one way that it was always meant to be
You kill me, you always know the perfect thing to say
I know what I should do, but I just can't walk away
JD.
posted by JD at 1:03 AM
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