a saint is just a dead prick with a good publicist
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It feels like I have a fever, but I can’t tell because I don’t own a thermometer. But a fever is the last thing I need right now because that would suggest an infection, which is a very, very bad sign.
Having serious health problems while also being a total hypochondriac sucks, because you take the already-serious issues and then ridiculously complicate them in your head.
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let the whole house go to hell
“You smile at me in total defiance of all decency
You’ve got it down to science
That innocent look
You’ve got it practiced real good
But I know you’d kill me if you could stand the sight of blood
If I’d-a been a fly on the wall a little earlier
If I had been one of the innumerable flies in this room
If I’d-a been a fly on the wall a little earlier
It would’a been real different around here
You try to speak but the buzz is too loud
And it’s hard to make you laugh through the dense black cloud
That surrounds us both
It’s just as well
You call the rope
Let the whole house go to hell
If I’d-a been one of these flies
I would have lodged myself firmly underneath your eyelid
If I’d-a been one of these flies a little earlier
It would have been real different around here” -
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but i slept with the lies i keep inside my head
“I know that my actions are impossible to justify
They seem adequate to fill up my time
But if I could talk to myself like I was someone else
Well, then maybe I could take your advice
And I wouldn’t act like such an asshole all the time.
”There’s a film on the wall, makes the people look small
Who are sitting beside it, all consumed in the drama
They must return to their lives once the hero has died
They will drive to the office, stopping somewhere for coffee
Where the folksingers, poets, and playwrights convene
Dispensing their wisdom, oh dear amateur orator
They will detail their pain in some standard or refrain
They will recite their sadness like it’s some sort of contest
Well, if it is, I think I am winning it
All beaming with confidence as I make my final lap
The gold medal gleams, so hang it around my neck
‘Cause I am deserving it: the champion of idiots.
”But a kid carries his walkman on that long bus ride to Omaha
I know a girl who cries when she practices violin
‘Cause each note sounds so pure, it just cuts into her
And then the melody just comes pouring out her eyes
Now, to me, everything else? It just sounds like a lie.” -
it’s just lately i’ve been feeling like i don’t belong, like the ground’s not mine to walk upon
“and i sat watching a flower as it was withering
i was embarrassed by its honesty
so i prefer to be remembered as a smiling face
not this fucking wreck that’s taken its place
so please forgive what i have done
no, you can’t stay mad at the setting sun ‘cause we all get tired
i mean, eventually, there is nothing left to do but sleep”
“i hope that womb’s not too warm
‘cause it’s cold out here and it will be quite a shock
to breathe this air, to discover loss
so i’d like to make some changes before you arrive
so when your new eyes meet mine
they won’t see no lies, just love
just love
i will be pure
no, no, i know i will be pure
like snow, like gold
like snow, like gold” -
i need to do something to get this awful weight up off my chest to keep her pretty ghost from chasing me
so, you say there are spaces open and wide
believe me, there’s days longer than nights
and you will be happy the minute you try
but you don’t try, no you don’t try
and you speak of a fever that burns you inside
as you explain to your mother how you wanted to die
so she kisses your fingers, says, “my darling, but why,
“when there is so much more? there is so much more
“do you know there are spaces open and wide?
“oh, believe me, there’s days longer than nights
“and you will be happy, if only you’d try
“oh, won’t you try? oh, won’t you try?” -
so you got ahead of me and i guess i’m still dragging behind
“I had a friend who changed his name but couldn’t change himself
He never quite figured out how to deal with what life had dealt
He put a needle in his arm to calm his handsome hell
Who would have imagined it could’ve worked out so well?
Now he’s a shape that moves like echoes through my empty room
And there’s a voice that speaks like someone’s right behind me
I turned around and found exactly what you would expect
The clothes I left on my floor, the papers piled on my desk
But where the ink is wet, the cause, effects, what’s meant by it?
The story is incomplete, the picture’s left unfinished
So I am writing my own ending
I’ll let my pen bleed black or blue
And I will color in the meaning
It will be gold, and green, and true
And I’ll learn to love my new discovered proof
I will be grateful for this day
I will be grateful for each day to come” -
you said, “i’m done feeling like a skeleton. no more sleep-walking dead.” you’re gonna wake from this coal mine. you’re gonna crawl from this bed you’ve made.
“You won’t ever remember what you choose to forget as you
Try to find some source of light
Try to name one thing you like
You used to have such a longer list
Like you never had to work for it
And now it’s so easy, it’s so easy to—
So easy, it’s so easy to
Second-guess every thing you do until all you want is—
All you want is to
Finish this half-empty glass
Before the ice all melts away
And this feeling always used to pass
Seems like it’s every day
Seems like it’s every night, now”
