I Can’t Seem To Make Myself Care

I Adapt To Things Quickly, Including Good Things, Which I Wish I Could Shut Off Sometimes. My Friends Have To Keep Reminding Me How Crazy My Life Has Become, And Then It Hits Me Fresh And I Just Slap My Forehead And Think, "wait, What... ?"

Peel Off These Dusty Wool Blankets Of Apathy And Antipathy And Cynical Desiccation. I Want Life In All Its Stupid Sticky Rawness.

Music? Music Is Life! It’s Physical Emotion - You Can Touch It! It’s Neon Ecto-energy Sucked Out Of Spirits And Switched Into Sound Waves For Your Ears To Swallow. Are You Telling Me, What, That It’s Boring? You Don’t Have Time For It?

I Wish People Were Willing To Dig A Little Deeper Than The Surface Elements Of A Premise Before Tossing One Story In With Another.

I'm Not A General Or A Colonel Or A Builder Of Cities. I'm Just A Corpse Who Wants Not To Be.