Time and Pain
11/25/2006 08:59 a.m.
To many journals, and yet why is it that I write when I'm intoxicated. With a sad song blaring in the silent halls of my apartment. No one to impress and the only hopes of being remembered. Yet how tragic and desperate that we strive to be more then what I am. Only a few will remember the sadness in my soul or remember the face that melts away like a quick burning candle under the most tempered whick. All the wickedness isn't from a soul but from the open heart the world has given me. All the malice is the sadness a tear from my own eyes. When lovers kiss is not what is ment for me. Or the shattered dreams of youth long gone, and wasted on the fear of growing up to fast.
I am currently Brooding
I am listening to Feel the Pain from Dinosaur Jr.