Because this whole
society
is founded on convention
and fucking
technicalities.
And beauty can't be found
within
or else we're vain.
And can't be found without
or else we're
ungrateful, lacking
self-esteem,
typical,
children of the 90's.

He was right,
they'd excuse us
based on a tear.
But what the fuck
do we do
when its just
not
possible
to cry!
What the fuck
happens then?!

Is it so wrong to believe
that emotions
are complex
that rage
can simmer for a lifetime
that thoughts
exist beyond our faces.
Is it so wrong
to be mournful
and distraught
because you can't stop
being mournful
and distraught.

How the hell do you
expect me to
shove that aside.
How the hell do you
expect me to ignore
these mind consuming
heart gnawing
gut cleching
rehashed feelings.
How am I supposed
to cope
with life
in the midst of all this.

Just beome
abstract
and write about
white walls and
green doors and
pushing daisies?
Just let my mind
escape for days
on never-ending
hallucinations?
Where life has trailers
and the colors are
far more vibrant.
No wonder you're
dissatisfyed,
you've known better.

Well maybe I have
to. Maybe the
memories have been
emphasized and
painted over and over and over and over
to produce
maximum
effect.
Maybe secretaries
are a little
more
sincere elsewhere.
Most especially
in my mind.
Why do I keep
expecting compassion
Why is that so
difficult.

Ya. I know what you preach.
Let me see it.
Let me be a necessary.
Stop asking why and
start asking Why?

They don't give one
half of
a flying fuck
that I'm happier here.

If I start living for them...
do I lose all i am.
If I live for the
future or the past or
another person,
do I lose all I am,
all I need to be.

If I stop repeating
myself, am I scared
I'll have nothing
new
to say.......

"Am I headed for that
same brick wall?
Is there anything I can
do about anything
at all?"

Too convoluted.

kc mar7/1.25pm