wait a moment before you trash this altogether
so baby, kiss me like a drug, like a respirator
I feel like I'm being sucked into oblivion. Or at least rather stressed out.
It's not all that bad I guess. Well not bad at all. I've at a loss at this whole good, bad, personal opinion, personal morals thing. I can't even put down what all this feels like. Words: no. Ideas: no. Whatever: I don't know. There must be some sort of medium. At least one for every... Well, state, condition, muse, et cetera.
I could imagine trying to write what I think caused this, but would I then have to sum up my entire life and the conception of the galaxy and all thought? Including what I do and do not know?! I have no clue. This is something to get past. Actually I'm passing this right now, but I'm thinking this is something to get down.
Someone should create a device to record the actions of the human brain. Not just electricity, brain waves, and the dead portions. That's rotten. Terrible. But thoughts, feelings, emotions. The stuff that can't be put down or can be and are just forgotten way too soon.
This is junk. I know I'll hate myself an hour later for writing this type of shit. It doesn't seem too awful or adolescent now, but it never fails to become so. Never...
Life is much too ephemeral. He not busy being born is busy dying. I wish I'd get along and die already. This birth business is too less sane an activity for the general individual to handle.