Finding. . . myself. . . lonely. Finding. . . myself. . . angry. . . Finding. . . myself. . .

 

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cleverlinesunread

:: 2009 8 July :: 1.16pm

Plan.
You can go through life disposing of people and then picking through the trash to pull them back out when you're desperate and ready. You can treat people as though they're renewable. You can laugh at others silly emotions while you keep yours bottled and to yourself. You can explode, alone. You can give false feelings that are returned with real feelings. You can mark your body with something you believe in, but don't bother to follow. You can keep acting as though your actions have no equal or greater reaction. You can sense someone is happier than you and use one sentence with intention of stopping that. You can be aged until you slip back into your group of fake friends. You can keep using big words until even those aren't big enough to hide behind. You can use people as much as you'd like and then drift around them as if there's nothing to feel one way or another about. You can fall into holes as soon as you've burnt your own bridges. You can blame every one and every thing else when something doesn't go your way. You can change depending on who you're around, never truly being yourself and later hating yourself for that. You can blame the honest and let them take the fall for speaking what you're too small to say. You can play the prey when you're the predator. You can give credit when credit is due, but you won't. You can search for the same person with a different skin, and you will. You can want the past, but you'll only get the future. You can play games with people as if they're toys, but they're not. You can then laugh at how much better you are than those toys, and you are. You've learned what buttons to press and how we're all wired, so you use your tools to break and not mend. You can learn to earn satisfaction through good, but you'll choose bad. You can think you're so grown and wise, but you have fields of growing to do. You can cry your own tears, but you'll assign others to do that for you. You can think you're above everyone and be much more informed, which you're not. But, no matter how many words you read, you don't speak them. And when you finally do it's going to be too late and no one is going to understand you.

You're no more than surface level garbage.

You should pick yourself apart and only keep what works.

If you're playing a game, you're playing with yourself.

And you win. You always do.


cleverlinesunread

:: 2009 16 June :: 9.31pm

'One morning an elderly man was walking on a nearly deserted beach. He came upon a boy surrounded by thousands and thousands of starfish. As eagerly as he could, the youngster was picking them up and throwing them back into the ocean.

Puzzled, the older man looked at the young boy and asked, "Little boy, what are you doing?"

The youth responded without looking up, "I'm trying to save these starfish, sir."

The old man chuckled aloud, and queried, "Son, there are thousands of starfish and only one of you. What difference can you make?"

Holding a starfish in his hand, the boy turned to the man and, gently tossing the starfish into the water, said, "It will make a difference to that one!" '


fallenfaces

:: 2006 12 May :: 9.17am
:: Music: Plain White T's - Hey, there Delilah

I swear it's true.
Hey, there Delilah.
What's it like in New York City?
I'm a thousand miles away,
but girl tonight you look so pretty.
Yes, you do.
Time square can't shine as bright as you.
I swear it's true.

Hey, there Delilah.
Don't you worry about the distance.
I'm right there if you get lonely,
give this song another listen,
close your eyes.
Listen to my voice, it's my disguise.
I'm by your side.


Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
What you do to me.

Hey, there Delilah.
I know times are getting hard,
but just believe me girl,
someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar.
We'll have it good.
We'll have the life we knew we would.
My word is good.


Hey, there Delilah.
I've got so much left to say.
If every simple song I wrote to you
would take your breath away,
I'd write it all.
Even more in love with me you'd fall.
We'd have it all.


Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.

A thousand miles seems pretty far,
but they've got planes and trains and cars.
I'd walk to you if I had no other way.


Our friends would all make fun of us,
and we'll just laugh along because we know
that none of them have felt this way.

Delilah, I can promise you
that by the time that we get through
the world will never ever be the same.

And you're to blame.

Hey, there Delilah.
You be good and don't you miss me.
Two more years and you'll be done with school.
And I'll be making history like I do.
You know it's all because of you.
We can do whatever we want to.

Hey, there Delilah here's to you.
This one's for you.

Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
Oh, it's what you do to me.
What you do to me.

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