Ever had the feeling of beeing prisoner inside a cube of glass? All the walls are glass, the ceiling, the floor, everything around you, and there’s no way out, just solid glass. You are invisible, no one can see you. You beat your fists against the walls, hurl your body into it, every part of your body is working to get out. But your efforts are meaningless, solid flesh beating against blunt glass, smashing, crushing grinding yourself into a bloody mess. Fall exhausted on the transparent floor, slippery of dark red. Couldn’t anyone just come and break it? Break my glass cube! You shout, you scream, you beg, you plead, you cry, your voice turns so course you cough blood. A desert in your throat, grinding away. It’s like offering your heart to someone, painfully tearing it out of your chest, repeatedly offering it, without acceptance, you throw it at the person, and with a loud splash it slides down and ends up on the street. A car passes, blood spurts, and the heart is no more. That is the cube. Isolated, alone, desperate to get out. Can’t somebody just break…
I have seen too many movies
I have read too many books
I’m the kind that sees sun and brings an umbrella
I have been to fortune tellers
Closeness is my greatest addiction. I love booze, true, I can become someone else, someone outside all my ISSUES. Someone happy, someone fun. But closeness beats that, those little moments. Sometimes it seems I have feelings, sometimes it seems I have not. Emptiness is a constantly resurfacing state. Hey there Delilah...
I don't believe in love. I don't know who might be reading this, I just don't, and I don't know if I've ever felt it. I doubt everything. I see signs, I doubt them, I get a hunch, doubt it, nothing happens. Maybe it's fear. Death Cab: Fear is the heart of love, so I never went back..
Times are getting hard. No I wont be a school robot, ken. Will never be like I was once before, everything evolve, change can't be stopped. Today I'm someone, tomorrow a little something else has been added to that, every memomory in our bank adds to who we are. Today, tomorrow, it's all a perspective of time. By the time we get through, the world will never ever be the same.
Discussed urges at english. It was kinda interesting. Rape was one of the manly urges. What if we would say just what we wanted? Do what we wanted. Chaos?
Hello Saferide - Long Lost Penpal Lyrics
Hello
Do you remember me
I am your long lost pen pal
It must have been ten years ago we last wrote
I don't really know what happened
I guess life came in the way
Let me know if you're still alive
Let me know if you ever used that knife or not
Hello
Yes I remember you
I've got a husband and two children now
I work as an accountant and make fairly good money
I still have your letters, you used a pink pen to write them
And you would comfort me
when my tears would stain the ink
And I would send you mix tapes with Kate Bush on
I have to admit I sometimes lied in those letters
Tried to make life better than it was
I still wasn't kissed at sixteen
And I still need a friend
There was this letter
I never told you this back then
But it would be fair to say it saved my life
I sat in the window
The only one left out from a party again
Pretty sure I didn't have a single friend
Then I checked the mailbox
Dear long lost penpal
I was lying the whole time
I'm really a 46 years old man named Luke
I have three children
and a wife, she doesn't care
And I hope you don't resent me
And I hope you do not hate me
For trying to find my way back to what it's like to be young
I have to admit I sometimes lied in those letters
Tried to make life better than it was
I still wasn't kissed at sixteen
And I still need a friend
It's a very beautiful song. That one, Hey there Delilah, 9 crimes, Little Lies, Into the Dark, Amie... all perfect autumn songs, in the beautiful, clear, afternoon sunlight, in the chilly wind and dancing yellow leaves, what brings me sorrow and comfort at the same time, hope and despair...
I'm crying right now. When typing this. I'm just depressed sometimes, that's all. I'm inside a cube. Everyone is standing outside, the sound of faint laughing, they're having fun, they can see me but they think I'm good, they think I'm allright. They don't see the glass, the cube, the prison, and so, they can't break it, break in. They will always be on the other side of the glass. I'm sorry, everyone reading this, no one has ever reached me. Never come all the way. My cube is constant. I've described it as the wall of china once, but no one saw that either. Can't climb, can't break. Will I forever be in this state? I can tell some things, others I can't. Always a matter of how much truth people can take. Some can take more, some can take less. I can hurt badly. I can get badly hurt. I can cause things. Truth. Can end friendships, or cause major harm. And I will probably regret writing this aswell. It's like drunkdialling. You will probably regret it. And writing when you're depressed for no apparent reason... It will probably just be fucked up, it will probably be called silly emo by friends, it will probably just be seen as bullshit. Depression isn't reasonable. Writing is better than cutting atleast. Somewhere out there, there might be someone who understands.
