"everything is arizona is hot." i'm bigger than that comment, right? mostly i disagree with it, because some things here can be damn cold.
i do believe we create our worlds. i wonder if i'm shutting down? i was warned that this may happen at some point. without my fire-fueled strive for betterment through self deprication... might ship be abandoned... ?
i refuse, for one time, to think much into this. i only know i've things to do. arizona has changed. it's an open space. it's dangerous to view the land this way, that it is asking to be built apon, and it's not because there's nowhere else to go. but because man points and says "mine." and he's got club in hand, to ensure his wishes come true.
i wonder who i am without a club? the things that are for you, just are. no club needed right? and so i grasp this open desert. say yes, and not no. ...my comfy place, where i shall sit and wait... but not with stillness. i have a lot of things to do.
i look at my tattoo sometimes. it's a marker of where we began. i've had it as long as i've been with him. a tattoo, is just ink... except... now it's part of me. it seems much more than ink, but it's just ink. go ahead, try to take it off. try all you wish. so much more will come with it. a permanent scar.
it takes a lot to say something is uncool. but you do. and people think you do it all the time, because you're always pushing for a betterment. for a perfection. but noone see's you as perfectionist, because by their standards you are not. but by yours, and the things that you hold in high regard... you're relentless... yet they do not see it. so those few and far inbetween times, when you really collect about yourself the courage to say, "i really was disapointed by that." it's important for it to be heard. but who knows, if it ever were.
coz it made me feel bad. i can't afford it. i have to do this, because it's the right thing, wrong thing, the thing, to do. it doesn't matter. i see it now. there are no excuses. even, but my mom might get hurt really bad, doesn't matter. morality doesn't matter. worldly good, and doing your part; eveything is excuses.
he'll hate me. he'll leave. i'll feel bad. i'll feel good. nothing matters anymore. how thrilling, and how frightening. there are no excuses at all. i'm open mouthed at this realization. and i'm not exactly sure where it began, or where the hell it would end... but thinking about that, is just another excuse.
i'm not sad or happy or anything. i'm just here, standing in an open desert floored by all that lies before me, behind me, and on each side of me. what is above and below me. ....where am i?
i do believe we create our worlds. i wonder if i'm shutting down? i was warned that this may happen at some point. without my fire-fueled strive for betterment through self deprication... might ship be abandoned... ?
i refuse, for one time, to think much into this. i only know i've things to do. arizona has changed. it's an open space. it's dangerous to view the land this way, that it is asking to be built apon, and it's not because there's nowhere else to go. but because man points and says "mine." and he's got club in hand, to ensure his wishes come true.
i wonder who i am without a club? the things that are for you, just are. no club needed right? and so i grasp this open desert. say yes, and not no. ...my comfy place, where i shall sit and wait... but not with stillness. i have a lot of things to do.
i look at my tattoo sometimes. it's a marker of where we began. i've had it as long as i've been with him. a tattoo, is just ink... except... now it's part of me. it seems much more than ink, but it's just ink. go ahead, try to take it off. try all you wish. so much more will come with it. a permanent scar.
it takes a lot to say something is uncool. but you do. and people think you do it all the time, because you're always pushing for a betterment. for a perfection. but noone see's you as perfectionist, because by their standards you are not. but by yours, and the things that you hold in high regard... you're relentless... yet they do not see it. so those few and far inbetween times, when you really collect about yourself the courage to say, "i really was disapointed by that." it's important for it to be heard. but who knows, if it ever were.
coz it made me feel bad. i can't afford it. i have to do this, because it's the right thing, wrong thing, the thing, to do. it doesn't matter. i see it now. there are no excuses. even, but my mom might get hurt really bad, doesn't matter. morality doesn't matter. worldly good, and doing your part; eveything is excuses.
he'll hate me. he'll leave. i'll feel bad. i'll feel good. nothing matters anymore. how thrilling, and how frightening. there are no excuses at all. i'm open mouthed at this realization. and i'm not exactly sure where it began, or where the hell it would end... but thinking about that, is just another excuse.
i'm not sad or happy or anything. i'm just here, standing in an open desert floored by all that lies before me, behind me, and on each side of me. what is above and below me. ....where am i?
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