The Hiatus

How do you find meaning?
Alone, walking the night;
Smiling, laughing, suffering,
Seeing none but moonlight:
Amidst this lonesome grave
Where all them, powerless, lie,
You run and wish to save
Your birth, before you die.

Hence, you stop breathing;
So that you do not smell
Those hearts that are rotting,
Encased by your hated shell.

Hence, you halt hearing;
And scream until you bleed
And all the same cursing,
Cursing this pain’s seed.

Hence, you pretend to not see
And look past their shallow eyes.
Talking with the casuals that be,
While deep inside it cries.

I thought I was innocent,
But I’m being punished.
I didn’t start this,
But I have to finish it somehow.
I can’t say I didn’t know about it,
But I don’t remember taking part in it.
I get the feeling my freedom cost me dearly,
But I don’t remember selling my soul cheaply.

Hey, hey!
Until I die and say goodbye…
Hey, hey!
…no one will ever catch me.

You probably don’t know the eternal outlaws
Who wander the distant night.

If I cut my wrist
And remove my hand,
Will I die from bleeding?
As I celebrate the pain
Of slowly losing sanity
Amidst the continuous
Draining of blood
From my head?

If I turn this light off
And lurk in darkness,
For all eternity,
Will your hand touch
My cold forehead?
And pray that my soul
May wander
Inside the recesses
Of your ever
Withering heart?

For this specter
That I call self
Is trapped at the center
Of my universe.
While everything else
Is rotating,
Living, loving,
Realizing.
And throwing scattered words
Of age and wisdom.
While I glutton over
Feelings of hate and love,
Over
And over
Again.

The only escape I see
Is to disappear…

Into the placid breeze
Like a speck of cremated dust.
And fly from your nose
To your lungs.
To smell your sentience,
Feel your heart,

And see the world
Through eyes
Of non-existence.

Forever…

What did I ever do?
To deserve this reincarnation?
Shit.
Yes I’m old.
Friggin’ old.
As old as your world.
Yes, that which you claim to own.
I AM OLD!
Fuckin’ age.
You always stop to listen to my voice.
Because of what?
I don’t know.
Age, maybe?

Shitty society.

FUCK!  This is why I hate ads!  What’s with these two cows doing their stuff?!  Fucking friendster!  Fucking some lame ass geek who doesn’t feel good!!!  FUCK!!!

(For those who don’t know what I’m talking about… oh well, no body would, you are not supposed to be readin’ this remember?)

You know what?
I can be useful.
There are uses for nerds like me, somehow.
Plus, I don’t bite.
I won’t eat you.
Nor devour your soul.
My presence won’t hurt.
Just a little chitchat will not change your destiny.
A subtle afternoon talk wouldn’t hurt your ancestors.
God.  My knees do hurt.
I feel like 60.  Rheumatism.
What is it that you’re thinking?
Was is it that I’m thinking?
Do you hate me?
I’m hurt.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!