semeone

I have this feeling that Ive been doodeling in this black book universe for far to long, I should find more hobbies, that dont require the use of marking utensils, maybe fishing or something. hmm the possibilities are endless. Nah maybe Ill just stick with the coloring, keeping it simple, being unorganized, and catching big bass on sunday afternoons. I heard that fish dig cheese and peanut butter.
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There can be nothing when all is done when the invading parasites have slaughtered what you held dear, and somedays I feel the time is now, but what became of you, natured by the wounds inflicted, lovingly carved into your skin, into your very fiber. Lies, Lies? I love you, you know, Even though failed expression, but i cannot help watching you stumble and fall, as your dragged around. The everyday trauma controlled by a craving, craving the dark and sultry of all that you carry dear. Somedays I feel like the time is now, can you scream or is your throat raw with angst that even choke your whispers. I do it at times, but you, you shine, you prove these delusions with degradating opinions, that I harbor. They are false, lies. I want to worship you but fear your let downs. I cannot feel the time now.
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