Thursday, November 01, 2007

It's there.

Stop. Stop until you feel somthing.

This feeling of anxiety.
I hate it.
It's addiction..

It pulls you in...
It paints purple under your eyes.
Makes falling asleep feel so valuable.

GO, GO, GO. Read til' you feel somthing..
Ha. Ha.

This feeling. This emotional high.


It loves you.
You love it.

It makes things so valuable.
and sleep so cheap.


You see it.
Now you don't.
BUT it's there.

You play games.
Love is sollid.

It loves you.

Because...after is love.

It's that.
Your hand floats a graseful mess over the grass.


You notice that your being shaded by the tree that hangs over your head gracefully.

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