to the tune of spout/beg by colourbook

fuck it man. Im drunk and I had a good time. except I didnt have a good time at all. the tequila was fun and the friends were nice, but I didnt feel it. I havent felt it in a long time. Maybe its the song, maybe its something else, but I find myself wishing you were in danger. wishing you were in trouble. wishing you hurt yourself. wishing you fucked yourself up, so that no one else loved you. then, I could come, and you would know I loved you all along. I could come, and save you. You would have to realize that I loved you all along. That YOU love me. that is why people like the movies. the movies fucking arrange life so that two people can be in love. the fucking circumstances mean soo much. I want to embrace what I feel when I think of you in another person, but I havent been able to yet. I want to make you understand, but I think you already know. Why am I so convinced that you still love me? why does everything I experience in life that resembles beauty or inspiration make me think of the clumsy stupid times we had? the days and nights of notes and fumbling. the excited crazyness of yourself. I had you FIRST. you learned from me. dont ever forget that I learned from you. dont ever forget the rooftop. dont ever forget what I said. I meant every word. Im over here to get over you. It hasnt worked so far. know anyone like you? am I spoiled? why am I drawn to sabotage? my love has turned selfish. leave me alone. you cant, though. you need to run, because I cant leave you alone.

(sorry its late, tell me what you think whydontcha)

Im a word that I havent learned yet.
and I dont know and I dont care; but I will love everything I see
Its soo fucking intense sometimes, and I cant explain
But it compels me to try
so Ill try


I liked the way I looked in those clothes
and when I danced in the bathroom late at night
I liked the way I felt, like my body could talk
maybe it knows the words I havent learned

when you express, you seperate, cut off, exclude
to write, I exclude.
cut off all senses to focus on one
but do I have to? im wrong actually
im listening to music write now.

are these words even mine?
should I pay royalties to my muse?
what we consume becomes what we express
we are what we eat

you know, I love you, you know.
and If you were me, if you really got me
then I could show you all of me
ME ME ME ME ME ME ME
ME ME ME ME ME ME ME

but YOU? who are YOU?
are you worth my time?
can I see through you? and when I do
consume, which is what ill do
and throw the empty can away.

I could lie, but I just want attention.
when inspiration makes me want to scream
I focus the scream and try to express
but do I just want attention?

in order to be an artist, maybe you cant be satisfied
satisfied with what the world makes you feel
you cant just enjoy it yourself
you need to compel others to identify with you
you just want them to BECOME YOU

PLACEHOLDER HAS A MESSAGE
HE SAYS POEM TONITE

"Time Stops" by Explosions in the Sky is a song I wanna cover with the DC someday. So my new job is a big challenge, im working for the government. lots and lots of higher level thinking here, its exhausting but definietly what im looking for. also, this is me, in a way

Wierd thoughts sometimes. Sometimes I want bad things to happen to people I love, so I can dramatically save them in order for them to notice I love them more. Ever wonder if the hero and the girl in the action movie would have ended up with each other if the conflict of the movie were taken out?