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Literature Text
today i slipped off the treshold of sanity and hit my head on the way down.
i tripped and slipped up on the gravel, my mind cut out by my crown.
trying to grasp i inhale dust, retching the accomplishments i have.
trying to stand up i black out, losing the future i had.
5 february 2007
i tripped and slipped up on the gravel, my mind cut out by my crown.
trying to grasp i inhale dust, retching the accomplishments i have.
trying to stand up i black out, losing the future i had.
5 february 2007
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i'll be surprised if anybody reads this. everybody hates reading poetry.
anyway, my house has too many extra bedrooms and when one gets too messy i just move my clothes and pillow to the next. mom finally decided i couldn't just do that anymore, so i spent the day reading old notes, birthday cards (i found $15, thanks papa), and looking through old sketchbooks where i took out my frustration by simply grinding the graphite into the paper.
i found this. at the time, i hated it. i still kind of do. but i guess i just hate it because of what i was feeling at the time. in this odd way this short piece of shit has so much gravity it's odd.
it is to me, at least.
anyway, my house has too many extra bedrooms and when one gets too messy i just move my clothes and pillow to the next. mom finally decided i couldn't just do that anymore, so i spent the day reading old notes, birthday cards (i found $15, thanks papa), and looking through old sketchbooks where i took out my frustration by simply grinding the graphite into the paper.
i found this. at the time, i hated it. i still kind of do. but i guess i just hate it because of what i was feeling at the time. in this odd way this short piece of shit has so much gravity it's odd.
it is to me, at least.
© 2007 - 2024 outsider-view
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