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often i reflect back on my life,
and i recall the goals that i set, principles i vowed to live by;
and then i look at myself now,
the wreck that i am now.
and i can't help but ask;
what the fuck is wrong with me? | | |
| apart from the occasional fuck, i'm putting on weight. need to run,
life's been pretty damn sweet.
but then again,
it never is enough.
isn't it, carmelle? | | |
| life is fucked. it is.
what makes it worse, though
is being in that state of drunkenness,
where the odds just seem to be against you
and you have strangers caress your body
instead of the one you hold dear.
like i said; life is fucked. | | |
| we are losing grasp of what love is; the very basis of it. it should not be based on financial stability, or the selfish want/need of companionship, or the fear of being alone when we're old and loose-skinned. then again, what do i know? lennon knows best. | | |
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i seem to be running away from things of late; everything consistent. but see, that's just me. inconsistent. | | |
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