Originally posted on Tuesday, July 29, 2008 on myspace.com
I’m doing this for someone.
I’m doing this for… myself.
If you’re wondering what, well…
It’s getting up in the morning.
I don’t like getting up in the morning for myself.
That’s not my point.
It’s never been my point.
I’m not a selfish person.
I need other people to make my life livable.
I’m waking up now for purely selfish reasons.
I’m doing this for myself.
I need to be doing this for someone.
Originally posted on Friday, July 25, 2008 on myspace.com
If you promise me that you exist, I will make that promise back.
It’s funny sometimes, thinking about what you lack.
For instance: foresight, or hindsight, or the articulation to make emotion tangible.
That feeling that you’re sure is unique, but everybody has.
What about no feeling at all.
It’s funny, feeling so small.
What if all you do, adds up to something greater.
and nothing you do is important, only equal.
It makes you feel like your not alive.
I really hope that I can survive.
this.
If you promise me you exist, I will question it.
I can’t find the answers, so I guess I’ll just sit.
Originally posted on Friday, July 11, 2008 on myspace.com
A middle aged man sits at a cafe, sipping a coffee, reading a newspaper.
A woman sits near him.
Hiding herself.
The man is lost in thought, thinking of the life he could have had, and how he is now stuck working a desk job.
Something he swore he would never do.
The woman is staring at that newspaper, longing to meet the eyes behind it.
The man never breaks his stare.
He is enthralled with his newspaper, stimulated by his coffee.
But too oblivious to ever acknowledge the outside world.
This happens daily.
The man goes through the same routine, every day.
Coffee, Paper, Work, Coffee, Sleep.
The man longs to find happiness, but never realizes that it could be right in front of him.
He’s too lost in current events.
Too selfish to be social.
The woman stares.
Longing to break the barrier of that newspaper.
A twelve inch thick, lead wall.
[ Some Artsy Title ] 