Another cold place, another shattered dream.
Perhaps, the order of life is tied into the random and the unexpected.
There are times when all the shivers that run down your spine aren’t worth it.
You feel cold with a glass and a packet and a bottle and a gun.
They’re not all here.
Some day. some other time.
Save seven, unhinged nine.
all in me, except a bottle of wine.
I don’t need your shit.
I seriously don’t.
Brutal, twisted world.
So dark, yet so beautiful.
Packet of lies sold.
Intoxicate yourself before its late.
Find your beautiful funeral.
Catch the bait.
All part of the wicked plan.
Catch your part.
Before it dissolves you.
All that you know and desire.
up in wisps of smoke.
Kill your dream or destroy yourself. make your choice.
Find meaning in all this absurdity.
Is it all numbers and integers?
we’re all creators. before we fall.
into the abyss of all that uncertainty.
all those dark corners that my shadow follows me.
whispering of dark futures and disturbing pasts.
all my life trying to find meaning in the absurd.
this existence, it pales.
before all i feel and experience.
Perhaps it’s all an illusion.
an illusion of absolutes.