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this paint by number’s life is fucking with my head once again. . .

07 Oct

I didn’t realize your passion for life was fear, fear driven attempts to cling to normality and acceptance.
As if idling for but a moment would be catastrophic, they can’t see through you when your not in slow motion.
The fight for childhood limitlessness : a self imposed prison of doubt and betrayal.

Tragic how something so pure has transformed into asinine comments,
Clung to with such reverence. A lasting stand at a connection so powerful, yet abandoned by the weakness of two.
Two who have suffered enough, yet are too arrogant to admit what is to be gained.
The wound, an emotional trophy…scar tissue. The lasting imprint that another temporarily called you home.

Peace, love and empathy. vinyl splinters.

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Posted by on October 7, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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