I was born destined to fall in to that bizarre world of non-existence. Our lives are a crazy gamble. Lunacy, laced with uncertainty, and too much time dwindling naked in front of the mirror. A life spent kneeling before the toilet, head resting on the cool porcelain. Sometimes I pray I don't die. I'm a goddamn hypocrite. Ignore my confusion.
Life doesn't seem to realize that it was getting in her way. She was a flower child, a wanderer of the oceans and forests. She didn't hunt with the intention to collect but with the intention to give life. To breath life into the dead beings that pass out and collapse in the garden. Everything in her garden needed to live and burn, burn, burn. Bright were the stars that she let bum off her sparks. Bright was she for giving life to the beings around her.
i have become somewhat promiscuous. maybe its all the love i think i deserve.