Pyro
Bluelighter
Was there ever any doubt, that I could do it? I mean, in anyone's mind besides my own? How is it that they can all look at me and have absolute faith in my success? Sometimes I want those eyes, their eyes. To look in the mirror and to know that there is no way I can fail if I am fully applied. Sometimes I sit and think and have nothing to care about, nothing that is important. I want something that is important, something rather than nothing, of course. It seems that my days are going well recently, things are looking up and are bright. Up and down though, good and bad. What is so horrible about the bad times, for me at least, is that I know exactly what will make them better - You. Problem is that you don't even exist, there are a bunch of you, but none with me. None for me, it seems. I don't even care about a close relationship, not that I wouldn't mind it, but to just have some of you around as my friend.
What else could I ask for?
The only thing that I feel is missing, and the only thing that I can not seem to work out and make better, is the lack of You. I sit and struggle every night to just get to sleep. It must be that time of year, it must be in the air. And there is this painful tension that builds up in my face, behind my eyes... terrible hopeless bullshit. Yet, I can't shake it. Suppliments, chemicals, writing, reading, music... nothing works, it's an open wound that won't die. So I walk around with this open fucking gash, trying to hide from everyone - being sociable and happy, when on the inside I am reduced to nothing but loneliness. How could I let this bullshit get the best of me? It is a virus, sucking and festering until I fall and disappear, waiting for this body to finally give the fuck up and die so it can move on to someone else. It worms it's way from the bottom of my stomach and sits swollen and fat - behind my eyes.
Yes I am passionate. It is a fire that I never felt the need to control. It helps me learn and grow and become firm in who I am... but it's like the double bladed knife. I'm not dramatic, I don't do drama. If I want something then I engulf it, and for a short while I become it. Then I know it and step away, having learned something new and beautiful. Sometimes though, I'll walk away from it after becoming it, leaving a dead body behind me. I can't look back, I have never been able to. Still I know what I've done, I know why, but I don't change it. So I set fire to everything in front of me as I walk away.
Pyro - Tim
What else could I ask for?
The only thing that I feel is missing, and the only thing that I can not seem to work out and make better, is the lack of You. I sit and struggle every night to just get to sleep. It must be that time of year, it must be in the air. And there is this painful tension that builds up in my face, behind my eyes... terrible hopeless bullshit. Yet, I can't shake it. Suppliments, chemicals, writing, reading, music... nothing works, it's an open wound that won't die. So I walk around with this open fucking gash, trying to hide from everyone - being sociable and happy, when on the inside I am reduced to nothing but loneliness. How could I let this bullshit get the best of me? It is a virus, sucking and festering until I fall and disappear, waiting for this body to finally give the fuck up and die so it can move on to someone else. It worms it's way from the bottom of my stomach and sits swollen and fat - behind my eyes.
Yes I am passionate. It is a fire that I never felt the need to control. It helps me learn and grow and become firm in who I am... but it's like the double bladed knife. I'm not dramatic, I don't do drama. If I want something then I engulf it, and for a short while I become it. Then I know it and step away, having learned something new and beautiful. Sometimes though, I'll walk away from it after becoming it, leaving a dead body behind me. I can't look back, I have never been able to. Still I know what I've done, I know why, but I don't change it. So I set fire to everything in front of me as I walk away.
Pyro - Tim
