This feeling of anxiousness - sheer excitement, it makes you want to puke. You can if you want.
I'll wait for you at the bus stop.
It exists inside you. It's in me too.
It's this fucking bitter-sweet melodramatic way of reminding you that you exist. Disgust and hope. Hatred and love.
So what if it's hazy outside, and who's to say it won't always be that way?
Don't look at me that way.
They're dropping bombs somewhere. Someone is giving birth when she doesn't want to be. A kid just died from starvation somewhere.
And the sun shines anyway, and the snow covers the ground in a flash-weather change. Tomorrow we'll skip in slushy puddles and feed the trees we just planted.
(Like they ever needed us in the first place.)
So where the fuck are we now, and how do we go on?
I'll wait for you at the bus stop.
It exists inside you. It's in me too.
It's this fucking bitter-sweet melodramatic way of reminding you that you exist. Disgust and hope. Hatred and love.
So what if it's hazy outside, and who's to say it won't always be that way?
Don't look at me that way.
They're dropping bombs somewhere. Someone is giving birth when she doesn't want to be. A kid just died from starvation somewhere.
And the sun shines anyway, and the snow covers the ground in a flash-weather change. Tomorrow we'll skip in slushy puddles and feed the trees we just planted.
(Like they ever needed us in the first place.)
So where the fuck are we now, and how do we go on?
VIEW 11 of 11 COMMENTS
bouncing from one stage to the next.
watching idily as the death throws of industrialism make the planet quiver.
dreaming of something more.
i like your entry a lot, welcome to SG. It's always good to see new radicals out there in this digi land.
stop by any time and write me, I like the way you responded to my journal.