jjay

I was sold teenage angst in bottles. Shit was prescribed and Im still begging for refills. Sometimes you just feel helpless and you can not help itits like shit was laid out all nice and neat, even the bad parts get scripted. No such things as reality television. Things seem too perfect, like Im an after school special, stuck in a dilemma. Cheesy music and bad acting feel my void. Im just waiting for the climax but waiting, will make you old. You lose sight of the beginnings, the lights are too bright and you flinch from the simple glory of it all. It happens in an instant and your never the same. Blink and you miss it. The purpose is lost and youre sent back to square one. Pause. Rewind. Repeat. Purpose is a foggy cloud. You immerse yourself in it completely but never seem to perceive it all at once. You cant, not from these vantage points at least. All you get is a taste, a drop of satisfaction creating a lifetime of searching. Trying to get your slice. Its a tough game full of tricks and lies. Some too good to pass on. Chasing comfort with an unloaded gun all you can do is mug that bitch. These days are filled with choices, ones of compromise and forget. Where is that idealism now soldier? Dont lose it at the stating line.

Chemical burns leave me jaded.

A perfect little imperfection.

Mind fuck me till I bleed.