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Always ahead when behind.
How is it that we find ourselves in the places we are...
Why is it that sometimes we wake, and not remember how it is we got there.
Why is it that when we try to remember, all that flashes through the mind is some sort of dark abyss.
Trying to climb the walls, all the while longing to jump from the heights to the depths.
Self-destruction comes so naturally.
Wishing to be somewhere else, someone else.
Knowing the while, that place feels like you, and the people there don't care to think of how it got that way.
Living in the past, a past where at the time you lived in the future.
Not know where to go is a fear only surpassed by not know how to get there.
Longing for something and yet hurrying the other way, too easy a thing to do.
Life, the greatest irony in life.
The craving of life to waste, the acquisition of frivolous languish.
Push the point, make the mark.
Get what you need before its taken from your reach.
Dream of the day you won't have to scarify what you are, just to be it.
If you're happy, does it matter about the one that is laid wain.
Is it equality, so long as the average joes, out weight the mistreated.
Can you dream without sleeping? Why is there no rest without the dream.
Why should any be given a second chance, and those yet to use theirs be left in the cold.
The burning of ice on your skin, is it lesser hurt then the bonfires of success.
The safe middle road, where the only pain is invisibility.
Standing at the crossroad, look left, look right, knowing straight ahead is nowhere, and we're all going somewhere.
Maybe we're just lost along the way.
Choosing the left, then the right when bored.
Leaving the wall ahead to those that don't jump.
Who's going to clear away the bodies...that's what I want to know.
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AUTHOR OF THIS MESSAGE
Symo
MESSAGE TIMESTAMP
14 january 2007, 15:33:33
AUTHOR'S IP LOGGED
203.206.14.165
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