I Want To Live.
Hey MLE! I have a note for you, from yourself, listen listen:
From the moment I wake, to the moment I sleep, I'll be there by your side; just you try and stop me.
Don't you start this hiding thing, kiddo. There is something on your mind, and so you get it out. Even if you stumble through. It is hard to break out of so many old habit patterns. I wonder if Anne and Pat have observed this thing, this tempest in me that as yet has not found its way to words, and just haven't said anything. I'm fighting, hard, I think. Being human we have all of these sinews sensations chemicals hormones to overcome, before anything logical can take place. So I keep putting one foot in front of the other, uphill, uphill. I long ago realized that Sisyphus is a work of fiction. Hahahahaha!
There is nothing that I can concentrate on here and [now].
Stress. Stress. People just want so much. Everyone just takes and takes takes takes takes. I gotta straighten my thoughts, I'm thinking too much sick shit! Ohhh, Mike D. So many insipid MSN headlines grocery store check-out magazine covers glitzy glamour best new sex secrets hottest lip gloss of the season pink pink shiny lips cheeks breasts powdery soft, smells like sweet fruit. I am more like a guerilla warrior than I am like Brittney Spears. What am I trying to say?
Diesel, diesel. There are eight hundred thousand stories and ideas rattling around in my brain most days, but one must possess the ability to listen and to understand. This word, the gift of Patrick, and by the way thank you for reminding me that people actually do really connect. He will never understand you. And still I continued, though! Haha. But, now the test. Perhaps this entry causes me to sound quite crazy indeed, but for me, it all makes sense.
Fssssssssss.
From the moment I wake, to the moment I sleep, I'll be there by your side; just you try and stop me.
Don't you start this hiding thing, kiddo. There is something on your mind, and so you get it out. Even if you stumble through. It is hard to break out of so many old habit patterns. I wonder if Anne and Pat have observed this thing, this tempest in me that as yet has not found its way to words, and just haven't said anything. I'm fighting, hard, I think. Being human we have all of these sinews sensations chemicals hormones to overcome, before anything logical can take place. So I keep putting one foot in front of the other, uphill, uphill. I long ago realized that Sisyphus is a work of fiction. Hahahahaha!
There is nothing that I can concentrate on here and [now].
Stress. Stress. People just want so much. Everyone just takes and takes takes takes takes. I gotta straighten my thoughts, I'm thinking too much sick shit! Ohhh, Mike D. So many insipid MSN headlines grocery store check-out magazine covers glitzy glamour best new sex secrets hottest lip gloss of the season pink pink shiny lips cheeks breasts powdery soft, smells like sweet fruit. I am more like a guerilla warrior than I am like Brittney Spears. What am I trying to say?
Diesel, diesel. There are eight hundred thousand stories and ideas rattling around in my brain most days, but one must possess the ability to listen and to understand. This word, the gift of Patrick, and by the way thank you for reminding me that people actually do really connect. He will never understand you. And still I continued, though! Haha. But, now the test. Perhaps this entry causes me to sound quite crazy indeed, but for me, it all makes sense.
Fssssssssss.
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