supersonic
Bluelighter
Is it dare I say, anyway to talk to you?
Well why would I care about such things, you don't listen to a goddamn word I say.
You see these words floating from my mouth in an exceptionally mute way.
Fuck this, and fuck words, and fuck you.
Because they don't mean a damn thing.
And all the ones you waste on trying to console me will go wasted, cause it means nothing just like this.
Well wow, you have nothing to say to this?
Surprise, surprise, saddened a bit that I must put everything so bluntly for your melodramatic soap opera WB ripoff mind to comprehend.
Maybe next sweeps week you'll find out that your drug addicted ex boyfriend fucked your best friend.
Fuck if I care.
Fuck if you do.
Fuck you.
Fuck you, you escapist ridden drone driven by the tendencies of your instinct and emotion, hiding behind your logic as if it means anything.
Fuck you, you pathetic excuse for anything bigger than an ant you stepped on last week, cause soon you'll be stepped on.
Fuck you, you sick disease, your need for filling and aquiring and feeding your emptyness with more useless nothing.
No wonder your never full.
No wonder you bitch and complain, thank heavens the comfort of your death can be on my mind when I go.
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If anything I do drugs to appreciate reality.
Well why would I care about such things, you don't listen to a goddamn word I say.
You see these words floating from my mouth in an exceptionally mute way.
Fuck this, and fuck words, and fuck you.
Because they don't mean a damn thing.
And all the ones you waste on trying to console me will go wasted, cause it means nothing just like this.
Well wow, you have nothing to say to this?
Surprise, surprise, saddened a bit that I must put everything so bluntly for your melodramatic soap opera WB ripoff mind to comprehend.
Maybe next sweeps week you'll find out that your drug addicted ex boyfriend fucked your best friend.
Fuck if I care.
Fuck if you do.
Fuck you.
Fuck you, you escapist ridden drone driven by the tendencies of your instinct and emotion, hiding behind your logic as if it means anything.
Fuck you, you pathetic excuse for anything bigger than an ant you stepped on last week, cause soon you'll be stepped on.
Fuck you, you sick disease, your need for filling and aquiring and feeding your emptyness with more useless nothing.
No wonder your never full.
No wonder you bitch and complain, thank heavens the comfort of your death can be on my mind when I go.
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If anything I do drugs to appreciate reality.
