I just go through the motions a lot. I think a lot of us
do, we just don't like to admit it. I wake up, eat
something, clean up a bit, go to work, and just go through
the motions. I laugh, joke and smile, but it's just a way
to fill the empty spaces.
Why the hell do I feel so hollow inside?
I fill my life with pointless, useless crap. It gives me
something to do, something to whittle the hours away with.
Every second I waste I come closer to dying, but I just
can't seem to care. But then again, in some ways, I do.
It's hard to explain.
On one hand I obviously have very little regard for myself,
but on the other hand I can be extremely self-centered.
I'm lazy. Incredibly lazy. Slothful only begins to
describe me. I'm apathetic, lethargic, and don't get out
much. What is there to do? Sometimes I feel as though
I've forgotten how to have a good time.
When it comes down to it, I know what I want, I just won't
do what it takes to achieve it. I am my own worst enemy.
I'm a slacker. If I won the lottery, I'd probably just buy
a double wide and become a total recluse. At least if I
stayed in my current location.
Maybe it is the location that has to do with who we are. I
don't really know anybody around here, I'm not into the bar
scene, and most of my closest friends live a thousand miles
Okay, not a thousand miles. Nine hundred is closer to the
When I was with them, I was a different person. I felt
lighter, more free. But then on the other hand, I was
flying towards self-destruction. Maybe that's why I was so
happy. When you're spiraling downward, all your worries go
away. It's that climb back up that's the real downer.
But then I had my low moments then, also. I tasted bitter
anguish on many a sad occasion back in Alabama. Where did
I go wrong? I bear the lion's share of the blame. I'm not
one of those whiny bastards who's always blaming the world
for their woes. I freely admit to being my own worst
enemy. The trouble is, I don't know when I started.
I've had a few women in my life. But there's only one that
I miss. She was a balm to my soul, and still is. That's
another thing that fell apart for no explicable reason.
Several times. We both love each other still, but now
we're so far apart.
When I was back in Alabama, we both knew what I wanted.
But I never tried to get back with her. I knew it wouldn't
work then. Maybe in the future some day... I can always
dream, can't I?
At least I have that. Dreams. But a dream is meaningless
unless you work for it.
I'm running out of time. I'm running out of options. I'm
running out of everything. I just need something to
believe in right now, but I can't seem to find anything.
"Every year is getting shorter
Never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught
Or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time has gone
The song is over
Thought I'd something more to say." -- Pink Floyd