We age and,
with age comes knowledge.
And with knowledge comes
certainty.
But with certainty,
you find questions.
And with questions comes
fear, with which comes
panic and anxiety and
eventually
exhaustion.
Once exhaustion ends
you realize the panic wasn't worth
anything, and the anxiety was simply
the moment suspended
from here to there.
And the fear was silly because
your questions didn't need answers,
the un-knowable will always exist.
You realize
the questions you had
were found when you knew everything
you thought there was to know.
And as such,
as you age, you realize every moment farther old,
just how little you know, and just how little
you are.
Search This Blog
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Fuck it
When you say "fuck everything", claiming to be independent, remember that in your words, independence is nothing if not solitude. It's pushing everyone else away, laughing at emotions and love. It's that moment when you're drunk on the curb, sat down because you can't stand anymore. When someone who cares about you tries to take you home, and you tell them just how much you care about them. They say, "You can't just hate everything. At some point, life will find you. You know, those people who are actually living? Feeling and smiling and shit?" They leave. You laugh. Say to the wind, "Life is for the living, you said that. I'm just waiting for death. He'll find me, until then I don't really care what happens. I'd rather sleep through it, but for some fucking reason, I wake every fucking morning."
Not even. Upset, the wrong words fell, you lean against the metal poll and let the coolness calm your fever.
Independence is loneliness, but you actually don't mind. It's not that you'll take care of yourself; you don't need care. You're not breakable; there's nothing to break. When they tell you they'll break your heart, you smirk and wonder, "What heart?"
People live their lives with such competence and dedication. You couldn't give a single fuck. You float right through and laugh when shit happens, because what matter is it to you?
Fuck everything. Honestly.
Not even. Upset, the wrong words fell, you lean against the metal poll and let the coolness calm your fever.
Independence is loneliness, but you actually don't mind. It's not that you'll take care of yourself; you don't need care. You're not breakable; there's nothing to break. When they tell you they'll break your heart, you smirk and wonder, "What heart?"
People live their lives with such competence and dedication. You couldn't give a single fuck. You float right through and laugh when shit happens, because what matter is it to you?
Fuck everything. Honestly.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Um...stable.
These words aren't solid enough.
Unstable realities send us spiralling down,
and that'll be it if we're not careful.
Unstable realities send us spiralling down,
and that'll be it if we're not careful.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Little littles
You plan to lead an average life, but we plan to stop you.
Happiness and education and jobs and your every everything? We laugh.
You just wait. We're ready when you are, dear.
When the gun sounds, you better run. We'll be on your heals when the gun sounds, love.
Happiness and education and jobs and your every everything? We laugh.
You just wait. We're ready when you are, dear.
When the gun sounds, you better run. We'll be on your heals when the gun sounds, love.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)




