Jabberwocky
Frumious Bandersnatch
A thousand thoughts clutter an unorganized mind.
Blame it on the disease. Pity will set you free.
Pity is the devil whispering obscenities in your unsuspecting ear
I’m the devil? Who’s to decide?
I’m sorry must be the ADD
An excuse only gets you so far, they have short life-spans.
Now is the time for being five years old.
I thought it was then?
Responsibilities creep in.
Ailing emotions and family
Cut-off army pants and a Looney Tunes nightshirt, replaced with what? A suit, a tie, a promise of responsibility?
Addiction what’s that? Long since left behind with that scared 14-year-old boy. Gods got him now, surrounds him, loves him.
You lie!
God would never show me bliss like this on earth. That reality is courtesy of a spike and plunger. Injecting happiness into life.
He’s had a hard life some would say. And a thousand other have had it worse. Surviving is my game of choice.
A pickpocket cartel, stealing money trying to quiet the guilt. My dinner tonight will take away all sorrows...
A teck job, an adult place, sacred. I worship the motherboard it holds the keys to happiness...
A million possible escapes. Which one am I? Am I still running? Who knows, my reality changes more often than my mind can keep up with.
Is any of this real?
Friends, lovers, this yearlong exodus away from responsibilities.
Ill wake up soon. I have to, these tears weigh heavy on my soul. It has to end soon I have to wake up. This life can’t be real its too enjoyable. It not a movie there aren’t always happy endings. Just endings in general. When will I wake up? Am I still that determined 14 year old supporting his family because there is no other choice? Or am I happy, just once, one time, one real emotion in this world of illusion.
-Phil-
[This message has been edited by liquidphil1 (edited 16 July 2001).]
Blame it on the disease. Pity will set you free.
Pity is the devil whispering obscenities in your unsuspecting ear
I’m the devil? Who’s to decide?
I’m sorry must be the ADD
An excuse only gets you so far, they have short life-spans.
Now is the time for being five years old.
I thought it was then?
Responsibilities creep in.
Ailing emotions and family
Cut-off army pants and a Looney Tunes nightshirt, replaced with what? A suit, a tie, a promise of responsibility?
Addiction what’s that? Long since left behind with that scared 14-year-old boy. Gods got him now, surrounds him, loves him.
You lie!
God would never show me bliss like this on earth. That reality is courtesy of a spike and plunger. Injecting happiness into life.
He’s had a hard life some would say. And a thousand other have had it worse. Surviving is my game of choice.
A pickpocket cartel, stealing money trying to quiet the guilt. My dinner tonight will take away all sorrows...
A teck job, an adult place, sacred. I worship the motherboard it holds the keys to happiness...
A million possible escapes. Which one am I? Am I still running? Who knows, my reality changes more often than my mind can keep up with.
Is any of this real?
Friends, lovers, this yearlong exodus away from responsibilities.
Ill wake up soon. I have to, these tears weigh heavy on my soul. It has to end soon I have to wake up. This life can’t be real its too enjoyable. It not a movie there aren’t always happy endings. Just endings in general. When will I wake up? Am I still that determined 14 year old supporting his family because there is no other choice? Or am I happy, just once, one time, one real emotion in this world of illusion.
-Phil-
[This message has been edited by liquidphil1 (edited 16 July 2001).]
