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Writings from November of 2007 to April of 2009, or maybe the middle of 2010. |
| 1-13-08 It's not the pain in my stomach's pit; no that's not it. It's not the pylons, my right arm or the sexy girl in the nylons. It's not the cashier, my left ear cartilage or any single part of this. It's not the DT's or me; just where am I supposed to be? It's not the cigarettes and fast food, nor my age or my mood. Even though I'm rude occasionally, it gets played off smooth. It's not the bad dye job that keeps washing (out of my hair); it's not an exit outta here. It's not the missed calls or lack of a phone. Sometimes it's alright bein' left alone. It's not the bad debts nor how I get in 'em. Maybe it's my turn but I forgot how to spin it. [It's not this, it's not that. It's not about what I lack. It's not this, it's not that. It's all about how I'll come back. It's not this, it's not that. It's not for bein' slack. It's not this, it's not that. It's the way I bounce back.] It's no longer anger and no longer sublime. It's not for the weak or shallow of mind. If not for uncertainty, what could I leave behind? It's not yet best for me until I reach into my prime. It's the anxiousness, neediness and lack of self-control. It's the persuasive eyes that prey upon your('s and my) soul. It's the hunger that manages to survive my failures, and if you don't believe it you can wash up with it later. It's finding myself where I lost myself. It's gaining health and wealth. It's telling the truth when there is no truth, 'cuz no one wants to hear it when it's long overdue. [It's not this, it's not that. It's not about what I lack. It's not this, it's not that. It's all about how I'll come back. It's not this, it's not that. It's not for bein' slack. It's not this, it's not that. It's the way I bounce back.] Don't- don't- don't call it a comeback- Don't call it a comeback- I been- been- been here- I been here for years. It's not the gain in my punishment. It's not the trail where my money's spent. It's not about how my life got bent. It's not about deviant experiments. It's not the proof in my shepherd's pie pudding, nor the filling of fulfilling. It isn't repo's or detox, nor the life's grand prix of crux. It's the ism to my ism, the sharpie to my wisdom. The bang in my buck and the shame in my luck. It's what every good demon becomes. It's all about the madness and rising above. [It's not this, it's not that. It's not about what I lack. It's not this, it's not that. It's all about how I'll come back. It's not this, it's not that. It's not for bein' slack. It's not this, it's not that. It's the way I bounce back.] once again I'm in trouble with my only friend... It's this. It's not this. It's this. It's not this. It's trying to find me. I'm trying to discover who I am. It's trying to find me. I'm trying to find me. I'm trying to find me. I'm not coming back. I never left. I'm not coming back. I never left. I never left. I never left. I never went right or left. I never left. Well of course I'd like to sit around and chat...well of course I'd like to stay and chew the fat. It's not about the players, haters or pretenders. It's not for the wanna-bes and fake well-wishers. It's all for concealing a life, wanting to heal a life. And that life...is mine. Yeah that life...is mine. Say what you want; I wear it all in stride. Say what you want; you're not strong enough to penetrate my insides. Say what you want; I lack the space to hide. Say what you want. Say what you want. When I find myself, you'll regret what you want. Of me. From me. |
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