toneski

writing without thinking first:

it doesn't make sense that today is the the day that I wonder wethor or not anything becomes real over time, rather than fading into the light of the past or the darkness of the before, realiation of emptiness comes through feelings of resentment, or regret, or remoarse. all these re's getting the way, clouding the heads of the masses under which we will will never be cleared. with all thee conversations in the day and role playing, and analyzing incside what we fear is outside that eats away our insides, trapped in a wide open space of everything and anything. hurting for, because of everyone and anyone. running into fences that aren't there, walls that turn to mirrors, then rust, then potpourri, then dirt, then blood, then nothing, then nothing, then reminders... there were never walls. Causing life and causing life to have cause, because there is no cause, and when there is it isn't worth it, or it's not real, its for something else rather, than that of the original meaning. motives driving every train of thought off track, off bridges, into valleys. Crashing.

I promised myself I wouldn't read it when I am done... tell me how shitty it is.