Monday, November 2, 2009

Refresh

I used to press a cell phone to my head for hours.
I divulged secrets. I loved, I lost, I won.
I got out of it. It's what I'm best at.
I sit here with my music, as if...
As if it proves my worth, my existence.
I had great moments, I had bad ones.
I know, I hope, I still have many of each.
They all tell me I have low hopes.
I guess, I just think it is reality.
But what is reality? Why would I know?
I get through every day like trudging through...
Wet sand, or some other fucking metaphor.
I have fun, I laugh. I have friends.
One, maybe two, things keep me down.
I'm fine. Why do I end the day feeling
Well, FEELING, man FEELING incomplete.
When does the good have its turn again?
And what the fuck does this..
Does this have to do with real life?
Where is God? WHERE is salvation?
Don't get.me.wrong. I have no illusions...
That my problems matter. I just, wash them away.
What do my complaints have to do with the poor
Man in China, in India, in Africa?
I bet he wishes he had my problems.
I bet he'd kill his neighbor for them.
We all think we have so much time ahead of us.
I'm not even 17. I should be fine.
CHANCES ARE. But, If I, if WE, HAVE SO much time...
Why do I feel like I'm done?
SO GIRLS, SO GUYS, SO LADIES, SO GENTS:
I know this is just a vertical list of complaints,
I know it's no poem.
Leave it be.
Refresh.

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