It begins with a sigh and always ends the same way. How could anyone care so much about a bunch of words, emotions, or actions. Thoughts to munch on, a cliche song i hear way too often, pounding nails in the coffin. Kill the noise please, i don’t care to listen to most of what they have to say anyway. It’s all warnings though, today they’re wise premonitions from wise minds, wise enough to know that i’m not. I won’t be, and frankly i don’t care. Just let me coast please. Stop the talk and let in the breeze and i won’t boast about how easy it was to get through. It’s hard enough as it is being a living contradiction. Barred from the heat and friction. Stuck in a cell. Probably won’t get out until hell freezes over. Or whatever it does. So if you’re going to act like that, a weezing bother, over such a peculiar problem born of your own psychopathy, at least change the sign on my nametag from expectation to reality. It’s so troublesome to care, and so distant are these rare truths that i don’t even bother to trifle with such malady. Too much to relinquish. So sad it’s a part of me. Not stuff i’m going to miss, But i’m missing so much In this suffocating apathy.
