(0202) random thoughts on objectivism

another church is built and bombs are dropped. i stand in the center; pretend i'm unaware, but then you come and say "hey." "let's just try to stay focused on what we're trying to create", but the planet's wasting away. "yeah... and so are the people that have come to pray." "well, then what are we to do now? huh?" so we start talking to ghosts and write our stories as we go.

there's no way back. there's no way out. they say we'll die alone, but little do they know because, this blood, they can't have... no. i'll suffocate myself before i ever have to drug myself. ruptured lungs and open eyes. there's just a part of me that needs to feel the curse in me. constant luck with no disease. there are two sides of me, and one side feels no apathy.

"stand up straight," they told me. "there is nothing wrong." "it's only in your head so everything's just fine." "but wait." "you've got this disease." "so take this pill two times a day; it'll keep the bad thoughts far away."

so in the backseat of my mind, i'm reposed. nothing holds weight. there are no real things to say so i forget the past two years and regurgitate the rest until it's time to make my nest. so give me broken twigs and dirt. remains of the departed... the remains of the entire fucking earth.

release me until i die. no one here needs wings to fly.