Don’t think
I hate when people ask me to read their work
What do you want me to do? Spell check?
I can see longing eyes begging for approval... even through IM.
And i've always said the same thing
"its good"
Like a retarded kitten they come back for more
As if i'm the Allan Poe of our times
As if i am Einstein himself and maybe my genius will rub off
Id rather rub one out
(Untitled)
I feel full, congested. Not physicaly or mentaly, but emotionaly. Its impossible to purge this much at once. Im trying to remember that life has something to live, and work for. I can't remember what. Alot of work poored into it and still not a thing to show for it. It feels as though life is a consant run for some thing or someone. Like being on a treatmill. Getting no where fast. As it goes by faster.
