Thursday, January 24, 2013

My words are not my own. They're an amalgam. A mish mash. A sad concoction of a million random influences of a thousand books of hundreds of movies of a million conversations a zillion songs that I absorb. I am powerless over it I am stronger for it I am everything and nothing. Found and lost. Everywhere and nowhere. This is who I am where I am where I stood. This is me powerless to the muse synced to the music hoping for something original something on fire. This is me tired drawn to the night drifting off to dream to sleep to awake one day older with cynicism in place of wisdom with nicotine in place of broccoli. This is me hoping somewhere someone finds it digs it buries it exposes it hides it. This is me hoping that the white line blurs and the highway never ends and hopefully, hopefully, there will be a gas station up ahead with a Monster and some C4 and a plot a story a beginning an end.

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