…and the way you squeeze me…
g r o o v e on that, yo.
i am, because i:
want to stab things. want to burn and break and smash things. want to fall into a giant chasm and just forget the world even exists. want to curl up in the dark with a bottle of jack and some good tunes and just drift… because i can’t make up my fucking mind. because i have a million and one things to fucking deal with. because i know what i want (kinda) but am too afraid to go for it. because i’m scared of things i don’t have control over. because i’m not ready to give up what little control i may have convinced myself i have.
i am full of shit
i’m about three seconds away from 5-year-old style picking daisies and going all out ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ and then dousing said foliage with lighter fluid and incinerating the motherfuckas.
because i don’t want love.
i don’t.
seriously, f’real & the truth i don’t.
i just want to matter.
/vanity & avoidance
