Sharing anything intelligent, musical, or artsy to the internet has always felt like testing my reflexes with a sledgehammer, or sticking my wiener in a meat grinder... But then, so is living, and falling in love, and dying... Every time I put that soul out there, and it gets shot into a million bloody pieces. I try to scoop up the fragments and jam em back in my chest but a few more pieces go blue in transit. These days Im afraid, Im fresh out of pieces to share of. I fake it well though, and I have this haunting feeling that I will only get better. God I dread the thought of living another 10 years, or 5, or even 2.
Posted on: Mon, 15 Dec 2014 05:50:22 +0000
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