My life is so aggravatingly pathetic.
I don't know how to express anything to people.
Not that they would understand.
I really don't mean the clique.
I tried explaining it rationally.
I explained with logic.
I explained it with emotion.
I tried integraty.
I even tried to spell.
But now that we have entered this degenerate society.
Where no one can understand.
Where the only thing that listens is a computer.
How am I suppose to turn to anything.
I can't expect anything to withold me.
They are simply to large for this boring and mundane world.
But there remains a place I can always rely on to hold back the tears.
I can't cry.
I am to arrogant to allow myself to admit defeat to this.
So I am addicted to the one outlet that allows me to express myself
Even in the toughest of times
I can escape
From my boyfriend
All of those who really try their hardest to understand and can't
I simply turn away.
I close the facebook.
I exit my myspace.
I let the wonders of messenging simply vanish.
I return to write.
It is my addiction.
A scary necessity to express the divinest of emotion
A writer is poor because their ideas are to
Writing is much like a substance abuse to me
It really doesn't solve any problems
People interpret it incorrectly
Perception is thrown off
A man can become rather enraged by
Writing can also cause such a diversity of emotions
It can make people feel good
Even one piece with intentions of sarcasm and hysterics
Can strike one mad
Writing is my addiction
A temporary escape from the real world
When only tomorrow enrages in me
The same fucking problems
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Short Story / Humor
Poem / Humor
Poem / Poetry
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