Tuesday, October 12, 2004

Waste of Paint

I feel like I'm nothing.

There's nothing I can do or make or say or try that will stop the end.

I'm without purpose now.

I thought I would be happier after cutting off my remaining emotions for Laura... but now I just feel empty.

Really fucking empty.

And also this sense of unease...

I'm just sitting here, trying to learn a song on this ol' guitar here...

Haven't played it in a while.

This feels like the calm before the storm.

We're going to raise Hell.

We're going to kill all the Traitors.

The Lonely Hearts are never going to control me again.

I will not be a caged bird. 

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