The fingers won't move and I can't think of anything to make them. Even when I grip a pen, it doesn't want to act as if it lives. I feel ridiculously inferior; maybe it's because I am. Perhaps I deny that which I know to be true.
Or perhaps I'm being too fucking analytical and I just need to smoke a goddamn cigarette and relax...
I'm just disappointed in myself at this point in time. I want my guitarist to get it. I want this damn duplex. I want a lot of things, and I'm not being forceful enough. I'm too busy playing "nice guy."
Well nice guys don't get shit.
We get stomped on
We get take saliva in the face
We get mocked
Ridiculed
Walked over
-and multiple times, at that
--and we allow it, too
---why, exactly?
----because we don't want to upset anyone
We run around scared of upsetting people
I mean, far be it from us to piss people off once in a while since we're so nice, right?
Although daily, we take the bullshit...
...we take what's meant for others...
...we ingest attacks thrown at us because they know
They fucking KNOW...
...that we won't retort, we won't bite back
We won't throw the fists back at the attacker
We won't bare fangs with intent of finding flesh...
...not even flash them in defense...
Fuck that
I'm not being the punching bag
I'm not being the puppet-trophy-plaything
I'm not going to be ignored
Brushed aside
Handed down
Shared
Diverted
Distracted
Changed
Painted into a representation of one singular mind's desire for the perfect person with which to show off with a beaming yet defeated smile that states "Look what I've done!!!"
The clay has gotten too hard to try and re-mold
And I'm tired of so many hands reaching to me
Thinking they can succeed where everyone else has failed
I want to be my own, what's so hard to accept about that?
I want to build my own stronghold
Burn the fucking bridges and inhale the ashes as they rise from the ravine
The smoke filling my nostrils and tainting my lungs...
...because fire is the smell of victory
And it will be mine, no doubts about that...
Many laughs will be had, but not at my expense
Many enemies shall find their fall should they make a move
And finality will be reached
Soon to be bulletproof and ten feet tall - the final stages of the change are taking place
I can feel it ready to present itself
Ready to pounce
Devour
Find the first predator looking for a victim and turn the tables
Give it the most violent, animalistic rending ever seen
In broad daylight
In front of everyone's eyes
To serve as the warning
So the whispers spoken will not be of how to trample me, how to deceive me, how to lead me blind into your benefit and entertainment, or where to hit me hardest
Where it hurts the most
Where the most blood flows from
Where the tears are hidden
They will instead be of how swift and fatal fucking with me can be
<<<< Tuesday, Jan. 25, 2005 || 9:45 PM >>>>
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