elvis said ambition is a dream with a v8 engine

for so long I've been told to give it up, to get a job and stop dreaming of what I'm dreaming of. maybe if I was more like you I'd have a single thing to say, I could look foward to...I could look forward to. I'm not the same kid that I used to be but I still got the same philosophy. if growing up is giving in then count on me to count myself out. getting sued by my friends taught me that I can't pretend that I'm immune to the rules of adulthood. I'd rather be a starving artist than a wealthy critic. I'd rather be a space cadet than bitter and jaded, braid dead and rewarded for it....like everyone else my age is. I'm not the same kid, I'm not the same child. I may still be a prick but at least I'm not a prick in denial. I wake up late just to miss the whole day in this putrid spew that I call my bedroom. putting on clothes just to take them off in a couple of hours....why the fuck do I bother? I want to ride this train and hope it never stops. this is all I have, it's all I want.

ride the wings of pestilence

hiding behind the shadows, i'll be waiting in the dark to drive this blade straight through your heart. i'll drag your body to the car as blood races down my arm. I think everyone will wonder where you are tonight. i'll hide you in my walls, your body will never be found. i'll wear your skin as a suit, pretend to be you, your friends will like you more than they use to. dear diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count. I believe it's six, going on seven now. I've been dreaming about you in a pool of your own blood with your eyes gouged out by the work of my thumbs. the scent of your insides from under the floorboards...the perfect perfume for setting a score. i'll hide you in my walls, your body will never be found. i'll wear your skin as a suit, pretend to be you, your friends will like you more than the used to. pretend to be you, your friends will like your more than they use to. ride the wings of...ride the wings of...ride the wings of...ride the wings of pestilence.

note to self

two roads split off from here, and my life goes running in opposite directions. exaggerating the barrier between who I am and who I want to be. I wanted to be that breath of fresh air, when everything smelled so insincere. but the taste still lingers in my mouth, deceit has ways of sticking around. and i'm ready to disappear...vacation seems far, seems far from here. note to self: i miss you terribly, this is what we call a tragedy. come back to me, come back to me, to me. note to self: I miss you terribly, this is what we call a tragedy. come back to me, come back to me, to me. I can feel my mind, wandering again into where I don't know, and will I ever get home? time starts moving faster than I can, and I'm sick of this scene. I need a break from routine. I can feel my mind wandering again into where I don't know, and will I ever get home? time starts moving faster than I can, and I'm sick of this scene. I need a break from routine. Two roads split off from here and my life goes running in opposite directions. exaggerating the barrier between who I am and who I want to be. which part of me is lost? I feel so close and yet I am so far. which part of me is lost? I feel so close and yet I am so far...