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Saccadic



in the land of a 1,000 poachers, happiness the sought after prey,

like if i tell you about this, the lack thereof might fly away,

like i'm asleep in class, like i can't keep from drifting,

what to do tonight, the flip-side of uplifting,

feeling blue - no - feeling black,

masochistic, at one with the beauty of a personal attack,

attention seeking, but not like someone with a pierced lip,

like someone reaching out, reaching away for relationship,

sitting at the computer, like so many days before,

please something different, psychological handgun unlocked in the desk drawer,

sweep girls off their feet with a broom,

living alone inside of an invisible tomb,

am i special? am i unique? are these the symptoms of a disorder,

fabricated memories affirming the above, of these i'm a hoarder,

where's rachel aldana, our rachel aldana, when you really need her?

desire the devil, and of this i'm unwaveringly sure,

trying to create my own reality - and vigorously failing,

it's cold inside of me, tearing turns to violent hailing,

cliche,

like look chap! it's a brand new day!

only it's not - fantasize about the faraway concept of interpersonal bliss,

fantasy - the only aspect in which i don't feel completely powerless,

we go, through the motions,

daily, empty or missing devotions,

dream about youtube videos, dailymotion snippets,

indulge a short escape, synonymous to cracking whippits,

mind running, kinetic,

tired, like constantly feeling pathetic,

secret myspace whore,

effeminate nostalgia galore,

only depressing movies don't contaminate, right?

sweet, bubbly and clear, open her up like a bottle of sprite,

i don't have a *CENSORED* to quench my thirst,

as long as i wake tomorrow, yesterday is never the worst.