2003-06-09 - 4:50 p.m. Drowing in Sour Metaphors There are things that I dream about that I cannot express because they scare me to no end and these dreams are not ones that I have when I am asleep but rather when I am awake. These dreams are things that I want and can never have. These are lives that I want to live but can never live. These are places I can never go and things that will never believe. It�s said that I believe in things. It�s right. I just wish I could stop. They hurt me when I close my eyes, and stretch my arm. I want to stop hoping. I want to become the paleness of a bloodless white whale. What I dream of is fantastic hopes of fools. Lottery lives of lemmings. Heroic acts of cowards. Beauty of the mutilated. I realize my dreams are not hope, but hopeless. Then why do I dream Is this why God exists. Wan would say no Lim would say maybe Edgar would obtain the answer. I think they mock me. I think that they don�t respect me. I think that they lord things above me. I think they are happier than I thought. Why would this make me sad? What have I achieved? The excuse of ignorance and the gift of anger. All in one pot, smoked to gritty perfection. | |||||||||||
