.older
stand a chance
i've got less to say. i do but i don't. i speak out loud less and less, when people shriek and claw and rant, i just sit and stare and wait for silence and mutter the same things in the same emotionless voice, every conversation is a stream of shit until five beautiful minutes here and there, and if i lose those moments then that's my fault, oh well.there's all this noise around me, ticking and electric humming. i'm overflowing, i need somewhere to store the doubt, i am going nowhere, or worse. i'm negatively motivated, stuck to what i've done, i can't imagine anything to come, i can't think of a time that wasn't too late. tied to the people i don't really know and the things we have done together, or have had happen to us, all these events building up and toppling over like in some silent film. there was something i meant to say but i forget, i don't forget much, generally. i don't have much to offer to people. i might feel less awkward if my body would just shut down and i could go missing from others and from myself. surely soon enough i'll spin myself into some twisted black cocoon and transform in chrysalis from one useless creature to another. i know what i should do but what do i know? what use is reason? why should i ever accept anything? why start now, just because my body begins breaking up and rotting away. nobody gets saved, nothing gets remembered, every futile effort is still worthwhile, i don't know what i'm blathering about. trying to explain is useless, i can't stand words. everyone is flowing past me. our lives are these fierce arcs, i wonder when we were in the same place. you tried to get me to talk and i just listened to your voice, thinking about the last rays of sunshine at the train station and the traffic lights changing when nobody is around, all these sequences we pass through, moonlight creeping across the floor and reaching my toes. i've got the moon at my feet. most days seem far too long to be awake for, our lives are too long to be alive. 