“I’m an escapist.” as in, yeah, I wanna escape this. you’re lost either here or there, and I know what here is. you have the sidewalk, and stores, coffee shops, footsteps, soon a cold wind, and rain. this place desolate on a Saturday, and “mindless dance music.” this guy resigned, moving up and out. secure that money and retire out of this horrible game. “I’m an escapist.” company logo on the mug for my water. I’m doing the closest thing to resting: relaxing.
I’m hanging on somehow. some things are too personal to mention. poetry is good for this. it encrypts the exact details but gives you the main idea.
I’m not a big fan of R&B, but I would choose it over Country in a heartbeat. I can’t relate to a whole lot of things out there. mostly I’m a morbid character out of a Dostoevsky novel. my heart is heavy and light all at once. I will probably die when someone is playing a song like this. just my luck.
you are ruthless
the way gears are ruthless
I stick in my hand
and get it chopped off
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