You think you know someone but you don't.
Come to think of it, I haven't changed my personality, I've changed my approach.
But you know what? You've gotta respect the history to build towards a better future,
Unfortunately, they didn't so you know what....
You've only tightened the noose that she put around my neck.
My hands are not binded so I will free myself thank you very much.
Sorry to say, you were one of my boys and I trusted you and always respected your turf, it's obvious your out to get your own.
Peace out.
Water under the bridge.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
What the fuck are you looking at?
So life is extremely fucking boring and in that matter, super depressing...
I've been told that I'm not the same person I used to be.
But can I help that? No.
Working my ass off and not taking a break from the mind crushing and heart numbing
reality really takes a toll on me.
That's right, I said mind crushing and heart numbing, not the other way around and I'll explain why.
I would much rather have my mind crushed into a million pieces and be able to re-collect my mentality in baby steps as oppose to having my heart crushed.
I'd also prefer that my heart be numb so it knows no pain and so that I can't feel my heart beat.
Does it make sense?
No, of course it doesn't. But I choose to think it would.
This is all in comparison with who I used to be and what somebody thought I was.
I'll touch base on the past...you ready?
Pre-stress Mike:
I used to sit and ponder about the future and who I was going to become.
Every breath I took meant that my heart would still beat and I was unstoppable.
My hands and feet weren't shackled with the perceptions of the corporate world because I was my own brand. I felt alive.
I fell in Love.
I looked forward to the days where I would be able to lay with her and be able to just forget the world and live in ours.
I worked hard for the future and didn't want to let myself down.
I wanted to have a great life and kids.
You know? all that mushy stuff.
I was that guy who planned to just sit in with the girl of my dreams where we would both be able to just have a lazy day and rent a butt load of movies, but find time some where in between to order take-out only because we were too lazy to change out of sweats.
I longed for those times where I would just spontaneously buy flowers for her because sometimes having too big of a gesture just screams insecurity.
Work was just a stepping stone to a better life because I knew that work was there for a reason. I knew that work would be able to pay off alot of things but also bring happiness into my life.
that was me before...and Now...
Present day Mike:
As of late I dread those days where I have to work.
I hate going to work knowing that these people look at me as nothing more than a lifetime employee that has no drive in his life.
I'm sick of going there and looking at those walls that bare the many things that mock my so called existence.
Everything about that place makes me cringe.
I take into account everyone's mood and persuasive action.
I have to feel the cold glares of individuals that seek free food or just find any reason to bitch.
Looking at the break down of people and watching them play follow the leader.
I'm sick and tired of having people look at me and whisper behind my back.
They know what's coming for me, they know that my heart will shatter when people talk all that shit about who I'm more interested in.
And are they to blame? Well not really.
I got myself into that mess because I was fucking bored, I honestly used these people for entertainment sake. At points in time I would over-react to a simple situation because I got a rise out of it.
Sick isn't it?
I sabotage my own life just to feel like I'm alive.
But there are a handful of people that I do honestly open up to, they know who they are.
Wait,scratch that. At work maybe 2-3 people tops, the rest are just...never mind.
Lately my own paranoia has been feeding my imagination with things that would kill me.
On the bright side though, someone had to notice right?
She rightfully grabbed my hand when I was drowning and genuinely asked me what was wrong? As oppose to someone asking me what my deal was at work because they know something is wrong and is just trying to pry. or maybe they care? Is it possible? 70/30 on that one. I'm kind of a prick.
Like Our Lady Peace once said "I'll be waving my hand, watching you drown, watching you scream, no one's around..."
but anyways...
She was the last person I would ever think to grab my hand while my body was motionless in the murky waters. I was drowning in myself and she noticed.
Odd though isn't it? yet kind of ironic.
See, I thought that she would be in the crowds of people mocking me and saying what a dipshit and tool I was.
But no, she made me put my foot in my mouth.
But what puzzles me is did she do it because she actually saw me living a shitty life, or was it because the words out of my mouth got around and she was just trying to deter any possible confrontation. Like I said my own paranoia is eating me up like a fat kid eating a toasty marshmallow.
Well, looking at the positive angle at least she found time to talk to me about it and truly appreciate her back in my life. Even though she is making it a brief presence.
Oh and on another this "she" is the old "she" just if anyone who reads this is wondering.
Now a days I wallow in the filth that I created. No one dares to pull me out except for two people I pray for and never take for granted, they know who they are.
As per usual this thing will turn into the lack luster love notes I always seem to write.
Cause you know that kind of thing matters in my life.
I still miss her touch and the way her lips felt.
She was amazing and made me smile.
Being who I am now will never get her back, but in retrospect, I don't think I'll ever get her back.
Some say I deserve better, but do I really? they only know of the wrongs because I can't elaborate on the numerous times she's saved me from myself. Before and now.
I miss her, I dream about her, I long for her.
Even if it is a short fix let me escape my filth to run in fields so that I can build memories. So that I can breath the air that once made me feel like I was alive, to see the woman that made my heart skip a beat every time I held her hand or kissed her lips. The woman that brought meaning to my pathetic life.
Let me live, because right now I'm dying. My body is breaking down and I know it.
My hands and feet are slowly being shackled to restrain myself from any freedom.
My eyes are being blind folded so that I can't see any light that will give me a glimmer of hope.
I can only breath and smell because the world isn't that cruel.
But before it's all over I will be dragged from my confinement to knowingly be placed before a crowd, with my back to the ditch.
I know I will be alone when I hear the words that will forever shatter my existence.
All eyes will be on me that day, not to look at the boy who was happy, but to stare at the pathetic waste that will soon be forgotten.
I will take my last breath and embrace it.
Cause that will be my very last memory of this world.
Something that isn't tainted.
But something so simple that it gives life
.
I've been told that I'm not the same person I used to be.
But can I help that? No.
Working my ass off and not taking a break from the mind crushing and heart numbing
reality really takes a toll on me.
That's right, I said mind crushing and heart numbing, not the other way around and I'll explain why.
I would much rather have my mind crushed into a million pieces and be able to re-collect my mentality in baby steps as oppose to having my heart crushed.
I'd also prefer that my heart be numb so it knows no pain and so that I can't feel my heart beat.
Does it make sense?
No, of course it doesn't. But I choose to think it would.
This is all in comparison with who I used to be and what somebody thought I was.
I'll touch base on the past...you ready?
Pre-stress Mike:
I used to sit and ponder about the future and who I was going to become.
Every breath I took meant that my heart would still beat and I was unstoppable.
My hands and feet weren't shackled with the perceptions of the corporate world because I was my own brand. I felt alive.
I fell in Love.
I looked forward to the days where I would be able to lay with her and be able to just forget the world and live in ours.
I worked hard for the future and didn't want to let myself down.
I wanted to have a great life and kids.
You know? all that mushy stuff.
I was that guy who planned to just sit in with the girl of my dreams where we would both be able to just have a lazy day and rent a butt load of movies, but find time some where in between to order take-out only because we were too lazy to change out of sweats.
I longed for those times where I would just spontaneously buy flowers for her because sometimes having too big of a gesture just screams insecurity.
Work was just a stepping stone to a better life because I knew that work was there for a reason. I knew that work would be able to pay off alot of things but also bring happiness into my life.
that was me before...and Now...
Present day Mike:
As of late I dread those days where I have to work.
I hate going to work knowing that these people look at me as nothing more than a lifetime employee that has no drive in his life.
I'm sick of going there and looking at those walls that bare the many things that mock my so called existence.
Everything about that place makes me cringe.
I take into account everyone's mood and persuasive action.
I have to feel the cold glares of individuals that seek free food or just find any reason to bitch.
Looking at the break down of people and watching them play follow the leader.
I'm sick and tired of having people look at me and whisper behind my back.
They know what's coming for me, they know that my heart will shatter when people talk all that shit about who I'm more interested in.
And are they to blame? Well not really.
I got myself into that mess because I was fucking bored, I honestly used these people for entertainment sake. At points in time I would over-react to a simple situation because I got a rise out of it.
Sick isn't it?
I sabotage my own life just to feel like I'm alive.
But there are a handful of people that I do honestly open up to, they know who they are.
Wait,scratch that. At work maybe 2-3 people tops, the rest are just...never mind.
Lately my own paranoia has been feeding my imagination with things that would kill me.
On the bright side though, someone had to notice right?
She rightfully grabbed my hand when I was drowning and genuinely asked me what was wrong? As oppose to someone asking me what my deal was at work because they know something is wrong and is just trying to pry. or maybe they care? Is it possible? 70/30 on that one. I'm kind of a prick.
Like Our Lady Peace once said "I'll be waving my hand, watching you drown, watching you scream, no one's around..."
but anyways...
She was the last person I would ever think to grab my hand while my body was motionless in the murky waters. I was drowning in myself and she noticed.
Odd though isn't it? yet kind of ironic.
See, I thought that she would be in the crowds of people mocking me and saying what a dipshit and tool I was.
But no, she made me put my foot in my mouth.
But what puzzles me is did she do it because she actually saw me living a shitty life, or was it because the words out of my mouth got around and she was just trying to deter any possible confrontation. Like I said my own paranoia is eating me up like a fat kid eating a toasty marshmallow.
Well, looking at the positive angle at least she found time to talk to me about it and truly appreciate her back in my life. Even though she is making it a brief presence.
Oh and on another this "she" is the old "she" just if anyone who reads this is wondering.
Now a days I wallow in the filth that I created. No one dares to pull me out except for two people I pray for and never take for granted, they know who they are.
As per usual this thing will turn into the lack luster love notes I always seem to write.
Cause you know that kind of thing matters in my life.
I still miss her touch and the way her lips felt.
She was amazing and made me smile.
Being who I am now will never get her back, but in retrospect, I don't think I'll ever get her back.
Some say I deserve better, but do I really? they only know of the wrongs because I can't elaborate on the numerous times she's saved me from myself. Before and now.
I miss her, I dream about her, I long for her.
Even if it is a short fix let me escape my filth to run in fields so that I can build memories. So that I can breath the air that once made me feel like I was alive, to see the woman that made my heart skip a beat every time I held her hand or kissed her lips. The woman that brought meaning to my pathetic life.
Let me live, because right now I'm dying. My body is breaking down and I know it.
My hands and feet are slowly being shackled to restrain myself from any freedom.
My eyes are being blind folded so that I can't see any light that will give me a glimmer of hope.
I can only breath and smell because the world isn't that cruel.
But before it's all over I will be dragged from my confinement to knowingly be placed before a crowd, with my back to the ditch.
I know I will be alone when I hear the words that will forever shatter my existence.
All eyes will be on me that day, not to look at the boy who was happy, but to stare at the pathetic waste that will soon be forgotten.
I will take my last breath and embrace it.
Cause that will be my very last memory of this world.
Something that isn't tainted.
But something so simple that it gives life
.
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