By now it's obvious to everyone, another year goes down the drain and i'm stuck with everything i started with. Sometimes i wish i was a scheming enough bastard, someone with demons and intelligence as company. This way she would be attracted and sucked in without her sober approval. But i'm not a person of demons and intelligence, my actions are based on pure,innocent instincts instead of concrete logic. I guess i could spend the day at home, drink some tea, put on a record and stay completely still and calm, pretending everything's according to planned. Sure as fuck, i have other options here and there, but i would feel the same ain't it? She blew me off ever so gently and professionally, like a considerate illusionist. I hate guns but i am a marksman. Give me one, and i'll treat it like a rose fucking everyone up. Hi, to all prozak painkillerss, i might as well. Be wrong.
Like a broken record player,everytime i look into her eyes:
I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am i doing here?
I don't belong here.
No comments:
Post a Comment