twilightmoon
When There's So Much Light, Why Do I Feel So Dark?
chalkQuestion my existence every day that I wake up, still alive, still breathing. Existential crisis and what's the point of getting out of bed and trying to be worth anything at all? Pirroette into a tailspin, fishtail on the highway and I'm in first gear going backwards and I'm grinning the whole way as the headlights swell to epic proportions in my rearview mirror and it's a disheveled grin on my face that alerts you to my lack of sanity. I'm gripping at my temples, raking my scalp trying to rip these thoughts from my mind, trying to rip any thoughts from my mind and sink to the oblivion of nothingness. Good morning world, I'm here to flex my muscles and pretend I'm everything you've ever wanted and that I'm better than you, better than needing you, better than wanting you and it's my old standby to take me away and to fix my problems when I'm down and I can't handle what's going on.
Time for a revolution.
Rise, rise from beneath the shifting sands, from beneath the mud where the world treads, from beneath the dirt where the world buried us, from beneath the tar where the world tried to forget us. Crack the ground in a thousand pieces because we are the reason why the world gets water in the first place, so let's start a drought, lets dry up the earth and remind the assholes of the world we're here, because unlike you you sanctimonious bastards, we believe in honor. We believe in life, liberty, in love, always in love. We are the bohemians. We are the hotel suicides and the guys who maintain your high powered sprayers. We are the plumbers and the RV salesmen. We are the scum of the earth, the dirt beneath your fingernails and the reason why you shower extra hard after walking through the mall wearing that sexy skirt for that special someone. We are the cogs in your clock, the greasy and unattractive buildup of all of the gears in the world.
We'll crack your cognitive preconceptions of ignorance and all of your safety blankets and comfort zones.
Time for a revolution.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
An explosion.
We're here.
Time for a revolution.
Rise, rise from beneath the shifting sands, from beneath the mud where the world treads, from beneath the dirt where the world buried us, from beneath the tar where the world tried to forget us. Crack the ground in a thousand pieces because we are the reason why the world gets water in the first place, so let's start a drought, lets dry up the earth and remind the assholes of the world we're here, because unlike you you sanctimonious bastards, we believe in honor. We believe in life, liberty, in love, always in love. We are the bohemians. We are the hotel suicides and the guys who maintain your high powered sprayers. We are the plumbers and the RV salesmen. We are the scum of the earth, the dirt beneath your fingernails and the reason why you shower extra hard after walking through the mall wearing that sexy skirt for that special someone. We are the cogs in your clock, the greasy and unattractive buildup of all of the gears in the world.
We'll crack your cognitive preconceptions of ignorance and all of your safety blankets and comfort zones.
Time for a revolution.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
An explosion.
We're here.
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