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dream destroying all consuming speculation |
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| Written by Diana, on 30-06-2002 02:33 |
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in days of watery pinkish seedy fruits the fact that I can't weather the heat in stone washed boot cut denim and long sleeve wrinkled cotton surfer tees makes the label perfection seem at a farther reach than freedom, health, and happiness. even days when the murcury drops the timeline summer prosmises it won't stay there long. even when I drift away, when my mind hides behind white noise in times of fear and minor distress, it seems I'll never find a way out, like the streets paved with gold really don't exist and never will. everyone says perfection isn't real, something you can touch and feel and see but I know different. perfection resides in minds content with how things are, how they were, and what they might become. while right now, these present hopes, thoughts, and memories are deathly riddled with a plague to end all plagues. it keeps you alive and distressingly conscious, experiencing the most awful pain ever wrought upon a human soul. if only valium came in thoughts, a tiny floating glowing gift bag stuffed with clear sparkled tissue paper knawing at my childish curiousity. with contentment I envision such perfection for myself that even the what if's I dream up while imperfect bring me farther down than I started out. I guess I'll go rest my will to persevere before i lose it to dream destroying all consuming speculation.
Last update: 30-06-2002 02:33
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