i never wanted this torment. i have hurt people, I don't pretend I haven't. I'm not a good person. Ezekiel 25:17, etc. etc.
But I'm trying, Ringo. I'm trying real hard to be the shepherd.
What joke of life, of love, I live. Divine farce, black comedy - Played out on a stage for those who see, for those who know. nobody's laughing, but that's half of why it's so funny.
The confusion. The paranoia. The total social strain, the endless nights and too-short days. never enough time to get anything done, but too much time to sit alone and think.
I found this path. I didn't ask to be shown it, I stumbled onto it and I can't find my way back.
One step forwards.
She thinks I'm hot when I'm angry. Her smile could light a candle, there is so much warmth in it's mischevious curves. Back massages, secret cigarettes and wanton emotion.
Two step backwards.
Gone without a word.
I don't know where this path leads. The end is too distant, shrouded in dirt and shade - I can smell cool, wet earth, but a stiff breeze crests up and down the gravel. With the wind comes a silent tang - bittersweet, tasting like bone and the flesh of those who stumbled, those who fell. I don't want to fall. I can't fall again. They are buried in the dark, either side of the path, you can't see them but you know they're there.
Every step I take I can feel them tugging at the cuffs of my jeans.
I can't promise that I know where I'm going. I can't promise I'll even make it there alive. I can't promise you'd be safe if you walked beside me.
but if I said I loved you, would you follow me?