when its desolate and cold
where your green fields in life turn to grey,
riding this storm out when I've got more important matters to worry about
shouldn't be the case.
When you wake up, who does it for you?
does someone wake you up, or do you wake up on your own?
what if the time you have to wake is out of routine, do you arise, all on your own?
if my backslide and loneliness were a slumber,
then I'm grateful for the wake-up call.
blaming others seems to be my hobby,
once again, I'm guilty as charged.
perhaps its part of growing up
perhaps.
I'm not like this
I don't even know why I'm like this...
you know what is rigor mortis?
my claws have probably chelated onto something,
but all that's holding them there are probably just muscles cramping,
the soul dead.
Am I like that?
like attracts like,
and though I enjoy drinking,
I guess wallowing in fantasies and thinking that drinking helps,
was probably the greatest fallacy.
the reason why the GP compre went well, was probably due to the fact that it was a matter close to heart. My very own lack of faith, and the very question of existence. bugger me black.