| everytime i close my eyes a dream appears to surface and the
connotation of needing love is everlasting. the superficiality
will never end lets stop trying to change theworld. changing
myself is harder than it looks on tv. trying to change you is all
i ever hoped for. falling and crashing in the most figurative
sense. i've lost my touch, my midas touch. oh how i long
for the day when words were simple. where they flowed and i meant
every one of them. where i thought maybe i could reach you w/
them. now, they mean nothing because you weren't touched and you
didn't care. nobody cared. and so i go along with these
words wishing for something to change the fact that what i write will
never be cared about. its as if, its as if i'm growing as a
person but i dont feel it. the search for meaning the search for
purpose this struggle brings me to believe that sought perfection is no
good in this world. and as i sit here wishing these words meant
something, i click submit and the whole world sees my heart.
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| its time to say goodbye to xanga it is wasting my precious time to watch cartoons on television. |
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| Too sad to cry. Too happy to brag about it. Those dreams that continue to occupy my mind tell me whats right from wrong and I can't think for myself. I never make sense and I hope I never do. She cries and weight is put upon my shoulders. I think I'm getting shorter. Time for the real world, homework. |
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| i'd make u-turns before i'd come to understand your way of life / going crazy is part of losing your eyesight when its too late for a doctors check and you go blind/ its fun to kno you were never telling the truth and that you were telling a story hoping i would care somehow for your sad reason for a life/ nowhere to go cuz i've only made it to the front door and i turn around/ find the missing piece to the painting and put it in 100 years after/ i need you for the purpose of understanding my smile when i go crazy for milkduds/ its a blessing when you find that your friends have gone to the house with the matching carpet and grass without you/ our chats at the library make me want to live another day just so i can feel alive |
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| i hope friday comes too soon/its the day i figure love is real/my hands in the brownie mix in hopes for something to break my smile/i might stumble but i'll drive towards the rain with pride/feel the motion of my bicycle when i ride past your house/everlasting giggles annoy the poppets with needles in their legs/forgive me for loving your name like my own |
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