Thursday, April 3, 2008

Its Easier to Play Dead Than to Be Alive

You can't be saved until you've seen where the alligator tears are coming from.
And you look into the eyes of the only one who could show you.
When you can see whats missing, and how you've been gone for oh so long.
Its easier to play dead than to be alive.
The act follows a script full of literate languge thats just muted and convaluted enough to resemble feeling and sense.
It all feels and seems so normal that the motions have you believing yourself.
That this was who you were supposed to be.
Buried doesn't mean forever.

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Its funny to me how you think its always me thats trying to inspire awe. And how you only criticize the words when you think they've failed some grandeouse purpose. Not every peck on the keyboard is mine. Not every phrase is meant to make your mind spin. And I'm not making money, like he is. So take it up with them. Why won't you go away? Just baiting me for attention is low. You're one of the ones who cannot be helped by anyone with a semblance of normalcy. Maybe its the money. I'm sure its only amplified by it. Because I refuse to blame dollars and cents for your problems. You use it as a crutch and a microphone. Your accent is fake too. The funniest part is how I matter, and am driving you wild, in some twisted capacity.
I abhore the use of the word "waste" when it comes to people. But for you it just might be fitting in one way or the other. If you saw this your ego would suffocate everyone in the room with you. You never understand when each sylable wasn't created to build you up.
Go on now, go. Go go go.

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