Is there a god in the sky? Or is it empty like me?

Hang me out to dry I’m soaking
With the sins of knowing
What’s gone wrong but doing nothing I still run
Time again I have found myself stuttering
Foundations pulled out from under me
This breath is wasted on them all
Will someone answer me?
 
We just got back from comedy works. After going to the pub afterwards, I’m not drunk, but a little buzzed, so I figured I’d relax at work. Let it all wear off, finish up some work, blog, vent, ramble, you know, my typical life.I’m sure if my mom only knew, she’d be heartbroken. Although I hope mom would be proud of me. I’ve made some stupid decisions in my life, but tonight I choose to make the right one.I dunno …So it’s been a day plus … I’ve yet to chew my fingernails. I really think it’s going to work. I only say this because I’ve never looked at my nails and said “You know, those look damn tasty ….”, nom nom nom nom nom. If I ever realized that my fingers were in my mouth(even before hypnosis) I would have immediately put my hands down to my side. I would only chew on them when I didn’t even realize it. Now, no matter what, if my fingers go towards my mouth my brain knows about it, and immediately I do something else. Playdough has some good stuff out there, this gooey sand stuff that I’ve grown a liking too. It’s got the texture of this foam that I vividly remember when I was a kid. It’s a great texture, and immediately my hands are appeased.

1 whole day.

So many changes in 1 day.

1 day.

It’s crazy. It’s rather poetic really.

I know, your probably tired of my Rise Against lyrics, or my useless ramblings, but I keep coming back to them because it’s really what I’m thinking and feeling at the moment. This won’t make any sense to anybody else but to myself. That’s ok too I imagine. I have this vision that I’m stumbling around in the woods, and I see a shiny object on the ground, and I lean over and pick it up and as I pick up all my life’s problems instantly solved. Wouldn’t that be nice …

the heart is something you can’t control
we either choose to follow or be left on our own
so we’re leaving here on a less-travelled road
as desperate cries grow louder,
I know we’re getting close, getting close

“As desperate cries grow louder, I know were getting close” … getting close. I guess I’m hoping that it’s my shiny object I envision myself finding.PS.*&^%$#@ thief ….

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1 comment

  • firewings January 19, 2008

    If your writings work for you, then they aren’t useless.

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