Under The Bridge

Do i have some resemblance to god, just in case? No? So why all you damed lost souls flow to me in the hope for salvation...answers...love? Who i am to answer you prayers and curses, in all these recurring cases, while i myself barely stay sane, barely stay alive!? Two near-death experiences, and you expect i'll tell you not to go and kill yourselves? Puh-leese. Who am i to say even that when the only thing that's keeping me here is fear from departing. My wariness of trains is something pretty well-known...so i can't take the last train for the coast, i just can't.

And you still come, time and time again. I can save nobody if nobody saves me. So isn't it ironic that when i try my best, however little is it, they take it...and leave...oh well, i guess giving is the important part, but the end is always damnation and abandonment. Your thankyous. Ironic how that who made me live in hell for two years is coming to me for advice. How i attract these half-mad prophets. How Jesus turns out to be Judas. How i'm pulled apart by temptation..."guilted into"!?

Not for the lack of wanting, believe me...

I won't write about the festival. Won't put the funny poll thing. Won't nothing. I'm tired to death of all that. And there's a horrible void of trusting, as everyone involved will condemn me even more, and those who aren't - scorn at best case, yawn at worst. "The loneliest child alive".

Emo poetry is tougher than it may seem. Therefore i do prose.

With anguish, love, and great snarkasm, dedicated to M. who claimed i can experiment on him.

We cannot tell when morning comes, if there's a choice to live another day...

Still it's not that anybody appreciates. Hell, sometimes even i don't. A secondary addiction has currently moved the main one aside, but for how long it will function? What will come out if it in the end? It's a very snarkastic situation indeed, a bastard child of wishful thinking and imagination running wild. I should really go there and see for myself what's real. Can't ruin lives without at least checking, right? Heh, north wind's calling...and i hope i won't get lost in a train station. "The last train for the coast"...but the music's been dead for two years, almost two years now.

And the next minute, i won't believe i wrote that.

Funny how it went, overcoming the bickering. There's no possible future scenario, would be impossible, whatever Morenita says about longdistance. And the thing that's happening here - well, it neither here nor there. Completely uninspiring, but annoying to no end - and i finally realized that rage and headaches are interlinked. I've got way too many headaches recently, and i'm not going back to half blindness of a few years ago. It has to stop, and murphy give me the power to stop it...but nah, it'll be exactly like everything Morena does - an epic fail, or just too late. And it's quite hard to settle over one will, when the current changes every fucking second.

Well, at least i keep myself amused. And Metzey keeps me even more amused.

CAThulu bids you a good night.