...pass by about as fast as the object of my affection... affliction of my chest cavity's objection. the more keys i find, the less apparent the doors become. and you're on the other side of the glass in my memory's museum.
So my little four leaf clover. Tell me what the trouble is with this hustle bizz. Anymore, your big ideas amount to nothing much, but it was something. Weren't you. yesterday isn't quite as real as today, and tomorrow, well you know the rest LIVE IT. The truth of the madder Is.
No doubt, baby. In the eyes of the crazed and beaten, you can find a certain truth that is RARE. you don't see it in the face of the prezzy, or the sales jerk, or the news broad. whose lies are only surmounted by their grandiose vanity.
I know my patience is not what it once was. but my spirit, i'll have you know, shines brighter than all the bottles of skin-glow-to-go put together. through and right through these wilting cotton balls soaked in cheap whiskey and melancholy nonsense. but i still love them, lord knows i do.
So here I am. Certain of my uncertainty and nothing more. With so much energy and innumerable options of outlets.
How the hell to focus on one, is the equivocal riddle.
I've had it that way, I've had it your way. I've had mine, and I'll have it more ways. not even the darkest clouds could shadow over my accolades. it's all relative to your perspective, isn't it.
If you're happy baby, than I'm
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