Friday, September 27, 2002
isn't it funny that sometimes, you can feel nothing but dead air...
dead, heavy, threateningly empty, air...
as i sit here and try to collect inspiration
like grains of sand running through my fingers,
scraping the earth, desperately searching...
searching for myself, searching for those reasons.
how i would like to throw my soul
one million miles into empty space,
and look at the world from a different view.
then, i'll see the insignificance of my cares...
blinded by chaos, our lives intertwined,
thrown away by cosmic forces and critical choices.
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dead, heavy, threateningly empty, air...
as i sit here and try to collect inspiration
like grains of sand running through my fingers,
scraping the earth, desperately searching...
searching for myself, searching for those reasons.
how i would like to throw my soul
one million miles into empty space,
and look at the world from a different view.
then, i'll see the insignificance of my cares...
blinded by chaos, our lives intertwined,
thrown away by cosmic forces and critical choices.
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