Am I indie enough yet? Do I qualify to be someone you like yet? Am I fit to be wearing a hipster crown? I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but I'm sure you're desensitized now with your irony, the misused beauty of love for catastrophe. Go suck your own dick. Just kidding.
It's not that I lack tact, but refinement. My shock and dismay is too great to be contained by paper plates of how I feel in the company of Everyone, where I'm the only one not talking, it's like I'm the only one not here, or I'm the only one at all, sorry, I'm a wallflower blended in, for sink or swim I'm not like you. and though I haven't read the book I immediately understand the concept of being noticed and instantly forgotten.
I am an invisible
disappearing
entertaining
foolish
obnoxious soul.
Or... a ghost, if you prefer.
I guess I'm not cut out for anyone.
Just kidding.
I'm serious.
8.2.11
4.2.11
I don't believe in my mind
I don't know whether to doubt myself or not care about doubting. It's a confusing mix of the two when you live in a split world, where you walk the line without notice in one while you're always gone in the other, as opposed to a dream where you're living but never thinking, because you live like you know what you're doing, carried by some purpose. I wonder why life isn't like that? Why isn't life more like a dream, you know? It feels as if it's everything but. I feel like a shape cut, a jigsaw without the rest of the board. So when will it all come together?
I swear I know sometimes, but every not and then I lose hope and heart.
Is it a tragic, or comedic? It all depends on how you see it and whatever your sense and humor might be, I guess.
I think it was always one or the other, never both, but it seems to change in whoever's eyes I'm looking through. So I wonder what I feel like when I'm wearing glasses, or (if I already am) when I'm not, if you understand.
So I wonder who I am, if you catch my drift.
That's what I wonder about every day. As someone open to influence I am, I've lost all sight of what it's like to be myself, because I lost my real self a long time ago when I began to wonder about what life is anyway. Like a dream who fell out of the dream, I walk in confused ways because I don't think this is the life that could be.
so who knows anyway.
I swear I know sometimes, but every not and then I lose hope and heart.
Is it a tragic, or comedic? It all depends on how you see it and whatever your sense and humor might be, I guess.
I think it was always one or the other, never both, but it seems to change in whoever's eyes I'm looking through. So I wonder what I feel like when I'm wearing glasses, or (if I already am) when I'm not, if you understand.
So I wonder who I am, if you catch my drift.
That's what I wonder about every day. As someone open to influence I am, I've lost all sight of what it's like to be myself, because I lost my real self a long time ago when I began to wonder about what life is anyway. Like a dream who fell out of the dream, I walk in confused ways because I don't think this is the life that could be.
so who knows anyway.
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