(041) the souls of dying atheists

i awoke with a feeling of infinite fear, having heard the sounds of ghosts whispering somewhere near. it was three in the morning so i called you up on the phone assuming you would somehow save me from being alone. it was foolish to think that you would help me out. i mean, the sound of your voice - i really thought it'd wash away all the noise i kept hearing then that i'm still hearing now. the sun - it still isn't coming up, and me - i still keep falling down. go ahead and dance. have the time of your life. you never noticed me, and i never noticed you. the souls of dying atheists are like the words that i write - senseless and out of time. you're standing on a corner somewhere in my mind at two intersecting roads that will take you nowhere fast.

i would assume that my reasoning is simple at best. i can't define what it means to be hopeless but not the least bit depressed. it's hard to be grateful for the things you have when all you see in your reality is a wasted past. i could have been better and faster and smarter than that... but i could care less now, and i could care less then. sometimes, i'm reminded that good things come to people who wait. yesterday, i heard about a man who died on the eve of his 60th birthday.