Stop. Think About it. I already am.
Done.. I'm done. It feels useless. It's annoying. It's frustrating. It's stupid. I don't get it. I got it once, it has died out. It's pressure. It's tension. It's stupid! I don't want to do it anymore! But, I feel so obligated to it. Like I have to. But I don't have to. Everyone else has to get used to the fact that I don't have to. Fuck everybody else. It's me I'm talking about. I just don't care. It's useless. It's weird. I feel haunted by it. I have other things. I have many other things. Maybe it's this place. Maybe it's my Mom in every other room, her voice traveling the walls. Maybe it's my hands. Maybe it's my voice. My brain? My mind? My soul? Destiny? Maybe are must. It MUST be me. It MUST be my mind. It MUST be my hands. Now, jealousy. Why be jealous when we're all equal? Though I have what others may not, other have what I will never. So stay happy and fat inside your private gate, with your four wheel drive and your warm lover. Some people have it. Others don't. I'm somewhere in between having and have not. Wanting to want not. Nothing to not. Tied to many knots followed to loose ends. Everything slows down. People slow down. Skin droops. Nails thin. Hair trimmed. I'm sick of trying this over and over and over. There was a time for this. There was a time. Now it's old. It's done. I've heard the future. There is no room for my noise. Even if it's only for me. There is no patience here. I've been waiting. And there is the problem. WAITING. Waiting is not action, but rather the action of waiting. I'm tired. Tired. Tired. Tired. Tired. Tired. Tired. Tired. Tired.
It's just nonsense. Why did it work so well a few years ago? Why does it all feel so lost? Why. Why. Why.
Disconnected from myself.... Disconnected from the people around me. I'm caring more and less at the same time. Because everything feels the same. Who are these people? What are they saying? They're all talk. And they will talk about hopes, dreams, passions, ideas. But there is no ACTION. Don't wait for me. Take off. Or help me help myself. I can't be helped, but only by myself. My ideas clash, my attitude high. What am I? Some lost treasure? Never to be found? Buried beneath some sand? I am tired. TiRED. It's stupid. I can't say it enough. I SO TIRED. I don't want to watch TV. I don't want to do anything. I'm just waiting around in this place. In this tired apartment amongst tired dreams, amongst, tired decisions. I'm taking care of you - perfectly able to take care of yourself. I'm trying to be nice about it. But I'm furious inside. I'm angry ALL THE TIME. I don't want to be here. But, I have to be. And I KNOW I'm supposed to be. I KNOW I'm being Taught a lesson. I KNOW I'm being punished. I know I know I know. Just GO AWAY. For a little bit. JUST GROW into something larger. A place I can be alone. I like it there. Alone. Alone. Alone. I don't care to be anywhere. ANYWHERE AT ALL. It's the same. It's all the same shit. Shot. Dead. Killed. Murdered. Suffer. Pain. Move on. IT's all sad. It's all trouble. It's money. It's power. It's greed. It's detention. It's arrested development. The SOUL IS HUNGRY. THE SOUL IS HUNGRY. I'm need nourishment. It's all sooooo gray. The plainest shade of gray drenches my mind. The shroud of colorless grief overhead raining down wont pass. All this wrought because I can't play guitar? I just want to fucking sleep. I just want out for a while. I can vent can't I? I can let my frustrations build and burst right? It's ok because it's all planned anyway right? My destiny predetermined RIGHT? My choices already made right? this verse already written OK? Who does that? Who puts us here? Who drives us to this lonely place? I don't want to decide for myself. I want you to choose for me. I want you to take control. Take everything. I am willing. I've been willing all my life. If I can't decide and you wont. Then just stay here. Nothing anyway. Nothing at all. Perplexed am I. Always. Forever. Never again. Fuck it. Dammit I'm lost. Lost in this maze. Just let it all out. Pouring through me. Dripping off me. Imprisoned in this big head of mine. Breathing gets shorter and shorter. My head starts to ring with the pain of an oxygenless brain. YEA i make up words. Yea, I have long legs. Yea I have man tits. Yea yea yea yea yea yea... So bored. SO BORING. Everything out here is a wasteland. Wasted PEOPLE. Wasted time on memories. NOthing last anyway. Nothing is important nothing is alive. EVERYTHING is DEAD. I'm bored bored bored. So bored that I don't even care anymore. I stopped caring a long time ago. BECAUSE I CAN. I chose to. Nothing NOthing NOTHING. I'm bored... This place is nullifying. These people are tiresome. This job is useless. And it's customers DRONES. DRONES OF THE FAKE WORLD OF SHITTY DESIGN. SHITTY INDUSTRIAL DESIGN. SHITTY INVISIBLE CHEMICLE DESIGN.
I"M DONE.
Done.. I'm done. It feels useless. It's annoying. It's frustrating. It's stupid. I don't get it. I got it once, it has died out. It's pressure. It's tension. It's stupid! I don't want to do it anymore! But, I feel so obligated to it. Like I have to. But I don't have to. Everyone else has to get used to the fact that I don't have to. Fuck everybody else. It's me I'm talking about. I just don't care. It's useless. It's weird. I feel haunted by it. I have other things. I have many other things. Maybe it's this place. Maybe it's my Mom in every other room, her voice traveling the walls. Maybe it's my hands. Maybe it's my voice. My brain? My mind? My soul? Destiny? Maybe are must. It MUST be me. It MUST be my mind. It MUST be my hands. Now, jealousy. Why be jealous when we're all equal? Though I have what others may not, other have what I will never. So stay happy and fat inside your private gate, with your four wheel drive and your warm lover. Some people have it. Others don't. I'm somewhere in between having and have not. Wanting to want not. Nothing to not. Tied to many knots followed to loose ends. Everything slows down. People slow down. Skin droops. Nails thin. Hair trimmed. I'm sick of trying this over and over and over. There was a time for this. There was a time. Now it's old. It's done. I've heard the future. There is no room for my noise. Even if it's only for me. There is no patience here. I've been waiting. And there is the problem. WAITING. Waiting is not action, but rather the action of waiting. I'm tired. Tired. Tired. Tired. Tired. Tired. Tired. Tired. Tired.
It's just nonsense. Why did it work so well a few years ago? Why does it all feel so lost? Why. Why. Why.
Disconnected from myself.... Disconnected from the people around me. I'm caring more and less at the same time. Because everything feels the same. Who are these people? What are they saying? They're all talk. And they will talk about hopes, dreams, passions, ideas. But there is no ACTION. Don't wait for me. Take off. Or help me help myself. I can't be helped, but only by myself. My ideas clash, my attitude high. What am I? Some lost treasure? Never to be found? Buried beneath some sand? I am tired. TiRED. It's stupid. I can't say it enough. I SO TIRED. I don't want to watch TV. I don't want to do anything. I'm just waiting around in this place. In this tired apartment amongst tired dreams, amongst, tired decisions. I'm taking care of you - perfectly able to take care of yourself. I'm trying to be nice about it. But I'm furious inside. I'm angry ALL THE TIME. I don't want to be here. But, I have to be. And I KNOW I'm supposed to be. I KNOW I'm being Taught a lesson. I KNOW I'm being punished. I know I know I know. Just GO AWAY. For a little bit. JUST GROW into something larger. A place I can be alone. I like it there. Alone. Alone. Alone. I don't care to be anywhere. ANYWHERE AT ALL. It's the same. It's all the same shit. Shot. Dead. Killed. Murdered. Suffer. Pain. Move on. IT's all sad. It's all trouble. It's money. It's power. It's greed. It's detention. It's arrested development. The SOUL IS HUNGRY. THE SOUL IS HUNGRY. I'm need nourishment. It's all sooooo gray. The plainest shade of gray drenches my mind. The shroud of colorless grief overhead raining down wont pass. All this wrought because I can't play guitar? I just want to fucking sleep. I just want out for a while. I can vent can't I? I can let my frustrations build and burst right? It's ok because it's all planned anyway right? My destiny predetermined RIGHT? My choices already made right? this verse already written OK? Who does that? Who puts us here? Who drives us to this lonely place? I don't want to decide for myself. I want you to choose for me. I want you to take control. Take everything. I am willing. I've been willing all my life. If I can't decide and you wont. Then just stay here. Nothing anyway. Nothing at all. Perplexed am I. Always. Forever. Never again. Fuck it. Dammit I'm lost. Lost in this maze. Just let it all out. Pouring through me. Dripping off me. Imprisoned in this big head of mine. Breathing gets shorter and shorter. My head starts to ring with the pain of an oxygenless brain. YEA i make up words. Yea, I have long legs. Yea I have man tits. Yea yea yea yea yea yea... So bored. SO BORING. Everything out here is a wasteland. Wasted PEOPLE. Wasted time on memories. NOthing last anyway. Nothing is important nothing is alive. EVERYTHING is DEAD. I'm bored bored bored. So bored that I don't even care anymore. I stopped caring a long time ago. BECAUSE I CAN. I chose to. Nothing NOthing NOTHING. I'm bored... This place is nullifying. These people are tiresome. This job is useless. And it's customers DRONES. DRONES OF THE FAKE WORLD OF SHITTY DESIGN. SHITTY INDUSTRIAL DESIGN. SHITTY INVISIBLE CHEMICLE DESIGN.
I"M DONE.
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