may it be my friends, my job, my education process, or my skills in different arts, there comes days throughout the week/month/year that i just feel like i don't even know how or why I'm in the situations I'm in or how i have come to know the people around me.
Today i was sitting in my living room with my roommates talking about whatever nonsense transpired throughout the day and i just sat there and started to stare at them. Not necessarily at them but more like "of" them if that makes sense at all. I don't know. Anyway, all I could think was "how do i know these people? how are these people my friends? are they friends? how do they know me? what do they think of me? Do they wonder the same thing?"
After a few seconds of rational thought I got a grip on my shit and put the pieces of familiarity back together.
A similar situation happened later on this evening. Two of my friends showed up with some fireworks left over from the weak display last night. Of course we decided it was time to put them to good use. In the interim of waiting to actually begin our night, we razzed each other like the fine young gentlemen we are. At one point i was informed of something that mildly offended me to the point where i wanted a logic explanation of the jeer. After not receiving one, i kind of retreated to my head for the remainder of the evening.
Do i know you?
Do you know me?
Again the feeling of unfamiliarity amongst a group of longtime friends bloomed. This time it stayed. I'm feeling it as i write this stupid fucking blog (which this whole blog thing is really narcissistic when it comes down to it. Why would anyone want to read about your garbage life and why are we saddened or offended when no one does in fact, care?)
I Don't Know. "I Don't Know." What a phrase that is. It's a total opt out of any further explanation or thought. Trust me, i use it enough.
Why are you here? Any of you? What do you serve for me?
What do i serve for you?
This whole blog post is honestly garbage. But i'll post it just because i don't feel like erasing this all and having it be a waste of time.
lower your voice and be recognized. i, of course, see no reason to reply. give me my just desserts give me my recognition, that proof. remain closed to all of those who dare to remain unchanged by your words. pull back the hammer and take aim. and shoot yourself in the foot, shoot everyone else in the foot. rid us all of meaning. the credit seems to be all yours. and you're sure of your strength once more.
(and all could be dismissed with "whatever, it's cool" and you could argue that it must be good or violent or irrelevant, but it isn't really any of those, and i guess i hate that attitude more than anything)
don't shoot, don't show. push harder the plastic forks under my nails. things don't turn like this even in our wildest dreams. what exactly is that smile? what is that smile on your face supposed to mean?
"we both know i've got those thoughts and words too, but i guess i don't give them enough use"
there are a few truths, and here's just one: i'm as fucked up about as much as you're fucked up. but beyond that there are only grasped straws and our own private perceived flaws. where's that gun? we should both use it. doomed from the start. committed to failure. simply mirrors all? rejected selves live to fall.
Portraits Of Past - Bang Yr Head
(and all could be dismissed with "whatever, it's cool" and you could argue that it must be good or violent or irrelevant, but it isn't really any of those, and i guess i hate that attitude more than anything)
don't shoot, don't show. push harder the plastic forks under my nails. things don't turn like this even in our wildest dreams. what exactly is that smile? what is that smile on your face supposed to mean?
"we both know i've got those thoughts and words too, but i guess i don't give them enough use"
there are a few truths, and here's just one: i'm as fucked up about as much as you're fucked up. but beyond that there are only grasped straws and our own private perceived flaws. where's that gun? we should both use it. doomed from the start. committed to failure. simply mirrors all? rejected selves live to fall.
Portraits Of Past - Bang Yr Head
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