It's supposed to be see through you dumb slut.

Life advice for the enlightened.

Be descreetly patronising.

When someone catches on, crank it up a notch.

Repeat this through out life.

You'll end up knowing about 5 people but they'll all think your incredibly funny.

THINK ABOUT IT...

He would love to tell you he is a poet or some kind of writer, he loves writing, he truely does, the truth is he just doesn't have that 'writers mentality' required to be anything more than a blabbering fool, an intelligent blabbering fool, but a blabbering fool none the less. His on-going-theme is writing about writing, writing about his own writing, writing about what he is writing the writing about. I don't really have a word to call it, but that's what he does. The use of metaphore is simply devine.

She's right too, I'm no writer, I'm what writers wish more than anything they were.

Someone who has original thought.

2012 apparantly.

That feeling of being trapped in a room
with walls made out of logic.

she doesn't care.

Death is the final state of mind in which everything we ever felt before rolls into one big feeling and dominates our souls for an eternity.

With this logic it must surely be wise to live a life where I Feel good for the majority of my life. In doing so I may come accross as slightly selfish, and even slightly selfless.

I am not someone who thinks about life simply for making excuses about who I am. I think if we all come to accept that none of us have had any practice with the whole living thing then we may as a collective come to the realisation that to demean someone for their apparant character traits will only inevitably lead to the demeaning of oneself.

So it is in this sense that we must come together and share eachothers love and hopefully break the cycle of misery that seems to be set upon humanity.

That is all.

I can't believe I was ever ashamed of liking The Transplants.

And heres to you Mrs. Robinson,
Jesus loves you more than you will know.

God bless you please Mrs. Robinson,
Heaven holds a place for those who pray.

We kill the stars.

But they still shine.

I'll sleep alone tonight.

When I'm dreaming tonight.

Catch 22 got me seeing the light.

Waking up questioning whats not right.

But as long as I'm alone I know it's alright.

You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease. You dont need this disease.

''The happy man only feels at ease because the unhappy bear their burdens in silence, and without that silence happiness would be impossible''

- Anton Chekhov, 'Goosberries'.

No one told me that liking 'Escape the room' games makes me a geek...

I'm actualy slightly worried now.

Ah well...

For those of you that care...

http://www.albartus.com/motas/

Is probably the best there is.

Try it.

I suppose I just realised that you should probably start worrying when all you can see when you look out of a window is your own reflection.

Hmm...

I havn't looked beyond my minds eye for what seems like an eternity yet you question my gaze, as though it couldn't mearly be a daze, such arrogance will get you into more trouble than your worth, Couldn't you just accept that maybe I care for you less than mother earth?

''We are the helpless/Time has been and wont return.''

She wears the rags we give her, her food is in the alley behind alfonzos, Her mother used to know a french man and thats why her name is Madam No.

She sometimes wonders who he was, looking in the french thesaurus wont help her. But you see, she knows when it's going to rain and who to trust.

Her eyes go in for years.
She understands what the cats need.

Time has been and gone for her.
She only needs her fears.

And now she loves me.

Oh why does this coincidence play so freely on your mind?
I only knew your face to be so gleely just one time.

The pearls and stars became who you are.
The shadows only hightened the light in you.

Though now I wonder, what was it's cause?
For I know I do not deserve the applause.

And now she loves me.
But I swear I do not deserve the aplause.

You take what you have gathered from coincidence.
Never thought about the consequence.

And now you love me.

The door was beaming, I know I've seen it once or twice, but you know, this coincidence, it will not suffice.

This man you see is fractured, but he once had truth captured.

When all he wants is to be stopped in his tracks, have hand patted backs despite what he lacks, but instead I'll wonder why he has nothing to say on this joyful day, on this joyful day.

But what is contentness if not a mere illussion in which all that is wrong about ones self is smudged accross a black background and banished to the depths of irritional uncerternty?

What I think about while shes talking about herself.

Upon the time of which Lifes crime is commited I will seek the angel that will carry me to the glass halls of eternity and in one moment whitness my downfall in its entirety.

Then will I understand you were just like me. Though how shall the others judge? I will be given the chance of renewel only if I turn down the chance of content.

The one moment of which I speak of will niether last in it's foreverness nor overhwelm itself with trivialites.

It will pierce my eye like the way in which you only ever hear about through third party and upon realisation will not end... Or begine.

Just exist.

I can only hope you'll be there with me, then you'll understand what I mean when I say I love you.

Nice to hope.

The Horror The Horror.

Oh, how shall I tell you this tale without striking
your soul with such terror that you may not wish to
hear me speak untill the end.

Yet still convey the torment of which I bare witness?

One must suppose that what I actually
mean when I speak this story of true horror
is that to bare witness to it is to feel the need
to tell it in such a way so as not to have your listener
fall victim to the true nature of such horrors.

So in one, particular sense, I am telling you what I know
without ever fully conveying to you what it is I know,
for this will merely turn you into a trembling fool
like me.

Like a rabbit startled by an oncoming light.

I can only hope that one day you may forsee
the horror in which I have succum.

And perhaps, just maybe, Avoid it.

Sanity lies.

One must base ones reasoning on ones passions and not ones fears.

The horror! The horror!!

Oh the horror the horror! She does not know of what I speak. When I drop my head and claim 'I am too weak!!'
The tears I shed, the suffering in my head, and all the sounds of but one scarlet colored tear will ease just my fear.

Oh when will this end... I am not made for this... for the moment I speak my mind I feel the vail of ignorance settle upon those who but claim to be blind.

Oh I have said this before. I swear i have said this before. Did I not once preach of the eternal reaccurance in which suffering's remorse is let only by the veins in which we tend.

Oh! this moment. To know it will end no more. To understand the plight of 'no more'. But mere words to the devoted. I once heard this shallow song. The song I sing now, oh how time and jest are such friends.

Oh but still the words that begune this terrible song will end with a meaning far less wrong.

The horror The horror!