Mood: Worried/Giddy?
Song: The Recluse - Cursive
Beautiful beings.
Humanism. Surrealism.
Art. Art. Art.
Thoughts.
Writings.
Poems, Short stories.
Hopes & Wishes.
Dreams that aren't fulfilled.
New dreams that arrise.
Hopes that are clung onto.
Getting to eager.
Suddenly, the mere thought of this one person,
This one thing that once made you feel amazing,
Makes you contemplate things.
What things really mean.
Symbolism.
Tons of it.
And yet in reality there's nothing there.
It's all in my head.
I think far too much.
I have too much spare time on my hands.
I'm working on fixing that.
I think I should only be online to talk to one person.
Two people.
Three.
Four?
Not too many.
Summer's calling my name.
Getting ******** up.
Partying. Wasted.
Trashed, smashed it all sounds nice
& plenty of what matters most.
You're beautiful, boy.
Forget what people say.
It's you and me, til the end.
Until you quit the game.
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Missa Defunctorum
praise the lost souls, it'll set yours free
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