Thursday, June 07, 2012
The Living Years
This doesn't let up it just goes forward and when you can get off your right back and the end of whatever diversion you mustered up. It's turned my angers to back burner slow slimmer and my fears on full boil. I can't be myself and I don't even know if I am that guy anymore. It's forced growth in the weakest most fragile bits of the soul. The mild adulthood everyone walks into thrust directly on our plate, double helping. You want a minute to run and ever then its somehow back of the mind, worrying the moment like a light left on. Its your own doubt brought up to terror that burns in all your blood. Its wrongness made physical twitching ruin running wild. It's friend that don't talk to deep forced to the core of matters. The thoughts and wisdom shoved into light and you talk about it, when there was once just a road and some music.