Sometimes i wish there's someone i could really turn to. i mea, all these pple walking in and outta my life, they're nice to me, cards, letters, smses abt being there. Who was i kidding? Who's gonna be there when its 2am in the morning and delirium settles in where the red thin line stands between blood and sheath?
Scares me sometimes dat time and again i'd pick up such books in de dead of night, wipe away coagulated dust and reopen trapdoors to echoes of time. its like the child begger glancing into the sweet shop display window, stopping, steamed glassf rom wet breath pressed flat against the cold smoothness of it all. Staring at the bait of a red and white striped candy cane. The same enticement, temptation. Waiting for the glass to disappear.
The beckoning finger stretched out from the depths of who i am try to drag me back into the pit of past. Schizophrenic? That misfit of a bitch adn her free ways where no one cared but to have fun. Lived and relished the dark and its secrets, catcher in the rye. And i could just see myself coming from Chino and the ghettoes living the messed up life that scares pple bad.
Maybe dats why Eric's so freaked im taken to Stan. cos its so different. it touches a chord deep down, rusty, out of tune, but it still vibrates. Feeling that connection and that someone revolutionized obseession that he goes crazy for. i love Stan cos of the reality of impact of celebrity magnetism where thing scan go awry and yet there's the answer we crave for.
i dont approve of Stan's vulgarities, but his story jsut gets me so moved that things like that happen, and im helpless. and its bad that HE likes marshal mathers and that tears me apart cos what he is is so different from who he is/seems to be. The guy i look up to who keeps his faith in such a twisted industry.
it eats me cos i dunno which version is the truth if i can trust when they're so into Just lose it that day that alarmed me yet its denied. Protect me? so you rlil'sis can be rest assured? i wish i could, we could just go out like before all these complications and realy know each other. pls dont lose that bit of you i used to know this subtefuge i dislike will drive me crazy.
i try so hard to reach out to that you whom you try to hide so much with a smile and jokes thats your popularity. you love that attention and you entertain for it, for her. And no im not jealous in that way its fine platonic but i am jealous. that you would open up for her and the steel gates are six inch opaque to me. i just want to know you, pls cant you stop being so closed? The real you on that one night where a crack appeared between the gaps and yet you expertly patched it back with plastered artificiality the next day. All i wanted was to know you. the real you. is that too much to ask? when you're happy, high, mischievous, they embrace you. Who really watches your back when the layers of covers are pulled back? i tried squeezing that tiny slip of paper through the secure gaps that i'll be there but the gates are still firm, unflinching. one day you'll realise im talking about you. or maybe you'll never know after all.
Scares me sometimes dat time and again i'd pick up such books in de dead of night, wipe away coagulated dust and reopen trapdoors to echoes of time. its like the child begger glancing into the sweet shop display window, stopping, steamed glassf rom wet breath pressed flat against the cold smoothness of it all. Staring at the bait of a red and white striped candy cane. The same enticement, temptation. Waiting for the glass to disappear.
The beckoning finger stretched out from the depths of who i am try to drag me back into the pit of past. Schizophrenic? That misfit of a bitch adn her free ways where no one cared but to have fun. Lived and relished the dark and its secrets, catcher in the rye. And i could just see myself coming from Chino and the ghettoes living the messed up life that scares pple bad.
Maybe dats why Eric's so freaked im taken to Stan. cos its so different. it touches a chord deep down, rusty, out of tune, but it still vibrates. Feeling that connection and that someone revolutionized obseession that he goes crazy for. i love Stan cos of the reality of impact of celebrity magnetism where thing scan go awry and yet there's the answer we crave for.
i dont approve of Stan's vulgarities, but his story jsut gets me so moved that things like that happen, and im helpless. and its bad that HE likes marshal mathers and that tears me apart cos what he is is so different from who he is/seems to be. The guy i look up to who keeps his faith in such a twisted industry.
it eats me cos i dunno which version is the truth if i can trust when they're so into Just lose it that day that alarmed me yet its denied. Protect me? so you rlil'sis can be rest assured? i wish i could, we could just go out like before all these complications and realy know each other. pls dont lose that bit of you i used to know this subtefuge i dislike will drive me crazy.
i try so hard to reach out to that you whom you try to hide so much with a smile and jokes thats your popularity. you love that attention and you entertain for it, for her. And no im not jealous in that way its fine platonic but i am jealous. that you would open up for her and the steel gates are six inch opaque to me. i just want to know you, pls cant you stop being so closed? The real you on that one night where a crack appeared between the gaps and yet you expertly patched it back with plastered artificiality the next day. All i wanted was to know you. the real you. is that too much to ask? when you're happy, high, mischievous, they embrace you. Who really watches your back when the layers of covers are pulled back? i tried squeezing that tiny slip of paper through the secure gaps that i'll be there but the gates are still firm, unflinching. one day you'll realise im talking about you. or maybe you'll never know after all.
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