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my dad yelled at me for being loud.. i want to write poetry
like a bitch.. yeah, goth poetry..
26 knives on my wall,
1 in my hand
i'm standing there doing there nothing
flowing by me is sand
why am i holding the knife?
okay, so i stop there because my brainmeats are dead for ideas...
can't rhyme... maybe i won't make it rhyme... my noize... is gone..
stupid noize.. gone forever, i hate you.. my noizey friend was all i
really had, or ever really wanted and it spoke the truth, unlike the
lying humans who are poor substitutes for friends. they don't like me
for my originality, when in fact they should be liking me for the
exact thing they dislike me for. at least i see it as such.. humans
are such poor, icky hypocrites, and i hate them all..
and that includes myself.. i hate my friends; they're never right. i
hate my pets; they're never fed. i hate myself; i'm always ugly. i
hate my parents; they're always mean. i can say always because
whther "always" means all the time or most of the time, it is so
because we only pay attention to the negative things, which dwell in
our minds always, and it seems they are mean all the time, and it is
invalid, but valid in itself. we are a mean, selfish people. we give
no food, show no mercy, are quite the belligerent group, and super
ultimatum's from a new man. i need a hug, i says to rohan.
i hug my teddys but it's not the same. what little love is deposited
is hardly reflected, and i feel more empty than i should have. teddys
make a good substitute, but only for a certain amout of time, before
all the love is drained from you and is in the teddy now, and you
realize you're so cynical and grown up you don't need teddy. and out
the door he goes, stealing your happiness and dreams. then you're
left with a bitter nothing; a big abyss of empty love between you and
the world, and you can't love anything any longer. is all gone. bye
my noizey loves me, it come back, my friend. my invisible noisy
friend; my consultationist, i love you. should you have a face, you
would be a reflection of me, but a very pretty one. me, with no
blemishes, with pretty hair, and a personality worth being around..
of course, you don't have a face, you're devoid of any, so i can't
get my noizey to be me, to escape with it to my happy land. i'm...