Somethings are better left Unsaid.

I've seen heaven and hell. Still trying to make sense of these dreams. I just don't want to fall asleep alone or to waste any more time. Still alive, and writing. i create music; www.soundcloud.com/karlchristophInstagram: karlchristoph

[karl-christoph]

[karl-christoph]

Dreams, nightmares.

Sometime’s they’re the same.

[karl-christoph]

[karl-christoph]

Wrote and actually finished a song for the first time in forever. Will actually record and release. Stay tuned.

[karl-christoph]

[karl-christoph]

In time you’ll find me in everything.

[karl-christoph]

[karl-christoph]

[karl-christoph]

Keep writing songs 7/8's through. Recording songs 7/8's through. Talking shit 7/8's through. Bouncing down 7/8's through. 

[karl-christoph]

[karl-christoph]

[karl-christoph]

Every day we’re one day closer to death.

Read the fine print.

Compare photographs,

Count grey hairs,

Count days,

Count death.

[karl-christoph]

Put on my tombstone -

“It was just a bad take, let’s go again.”

[karl-christoph]

People putting on shows, for other people putting on shows, who’re watching each other’s shows, never the whole way through, just enough to know what’s going on in their show, so they can add it to their own show and pretend it’s opening night or something.

[karl-christoph]

Life only changes when opportunity meets desire.

[karl-christoph]

Don’t set yourself free,

find a nice 3x3 with a lock,

five minutes from the bottlo.

Instead of seeing the world,

listen in from the rafters;

watch love from the branches,

as those who you knew

don’t care, don’t check

or when they come; just wreck.

Then disappear, without you.

Get married without you,

start lives, without you.

Find brides, think twice.

If they can invite you.

Thank god for the virtue,

That four walls can give you.

So you can question and question

the endings like new wounds.

Yet it always whittles down to

“What the fuck did I do?”

|Deadset - what was it?|

Standing on a freshly whittled stick.

In a 3x3 with a lock.

Five minutes from the bottlo.

Telling myself not to set myself free.

[karl-christoph]

We’re just kids making adult decisions.

Life’s a playground;

no point not having fun.