so about that work thing i said earlier

i’m pretty tired.

if i could enumerate all the things i’ve been through, it would be


i don’t want that.

but mostly i don’t want that because its work.

because i’d have to emotionally care for you.

you see, i’m exhausted. i’ve nothing left of myself to give. i used all my empathy up on myself.

and there is not enough good in the world for me to draw it up anew

so for now

i’m tired.

that is all.


[no meaning]

I want to write poetry.
I want to write a song so beautiful it makes the world break;
I want to tear the fabric that holds us together to pieces so I
Can rebuild it again
And my sound will be the cornerstone.
My voice will echo through an empty chamber and it will be the only thing you hear,
It will enter you and seize your heart, it will squeeze you
And expand inside of you until it fills you up;
You heart will beat faster and adrenaline will pulse
And your body will loosen in the middle and tighten on the edges
You will become a human, just like me
And together we will rise up
And live out the true meaning of our creed

I walk in the night, what a beautiful sight
Lord Byron- please show me the streets I walk?
And I
Let my cup of plenty runneth over
Till it leaves me wondering just what I’ve done to deserve sober, and I

Feel spiritual things but nothing satisfies my dreams
And so I raise my glass to toast to everlasting life
But immortality comes from being more than free and I shift into a bird to take flight

But nothing seems to me so beautiful to see as the falcon crying out it’s fatal call
And as I twist and turn down I miss one fatal calling sound and the world around me Crumbles and begins to fall.

[i’m sorry.]