You shave your head and you shed your skin, the mind starts moving fast again.
For the blues and for the gutter,,
There’s a flip side, and it’s like no other.
Delusional amounts of power.
Delusional speed.
Delusional confidence.
It’s tough to explain, but alas,, it ain’t my fuckin job to explain it to you.
It’s just,, the vessel you were given.
Now smooth hand and steady hand,calm speech and collected motivations, intentional execution.
You think I’m full of shit?
I am.
But why don’t you look the fuck around and get back to me?
It’s not just me.
Everyone is a product of all that.
Everyone.
How is a person supposed to be pure?
How does one maneuver that world without becoming the same?
Too deep for me, questions I can’t answer.
I do what I can, and I do my best
(Almost)
Caring.
Caring is the problem.
Fuck gains, fuck success fuck self worship.
Fuck the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow..
How.
The Fuck.
DO you bring yourself to care?
How?
What does it for you?
Applause? Paycheck? Riding with a “team”?
How, do you care?
How do you continue to care?
What in the god damn mother fuck is your motivation?
Leaves you seething, if you ain’t got no answer, leaves you gnashing teeth,
Perrrr poss.
Purpose.
(Gotta serve somebody..)
And it feels like you have to pick a team.
And if you’re not on team human?
(Eesh)
Eesh is right.
You’re gonna die, and if you want zero souls at your funeral? And if you want zero fucks given about the years you were alive,,your very identity?
(Complicated..)
Some people have a hole that can never be filled.
Most people.
(And a weird one finds his hole and curses at it)
Or throws guitar pedals into it, and cat love, annnd
(Bite your tongue..)
Back to where you started.
Shed your skin.
(Cast the pearls aside..)
Bodies-SP.
If none of it is real, whom do you confess to? Who do you ask for forgiveness? Who do you express guilt to? Who do you show your sins and dysfunctions to?
(Good question..)
Journal, diary,, the only answer I’ve found so far.
I do hate myself,
I like the Up better than the Down though.
Without a doubt.
Being up feels good, it feels it feels it feels,,,
Impossible to articulate..
ANd the game, the game of life that I know,,,is reeling it in and going to work.
Try to harness it and attack tasks.
I never meant to attack humans,
Never meant for anything.
I felt threatened, and I responded, which is my fault,right?
I’ve done plenty wrong, but not in a while.
And I see how fucked it is.
Sooooo,, that’s the garbage you take to the keyboard, it’s just for you.
Blah blah blah
dawn 