

He. . .Water streamed down the only window in his studio apartment. Only, it wasnt raining. In fact, the sun shone brightly inside his eyes as he pulled the covers back over his out of focus mind. He had no intentions of going to work today. He was feeling rebellious, for he had forgotten it was Saturday, and he didnt work Saturdays. He had even made a point of giving his boss the finger by not working on his off day. This man was very strange for being so normal. He worked in an office all day every day and hated every minute of it. He hated his apaHe. . .


Good dayHello, Mr. Oburst, What have I told you, Your sad melodies just make me cry. As we climb into the old hearse, See what Ive shown you, All that you have done is helped me die.Good day
You say this is no first, Other ones have shown you, Writing this is hardly worth the time. But I take a look at your shirt, Long as the sleeves are, And realize how youd really like to go.
Good day, good day, good day to Conner, Good day, good day, good day to die. You say youll never love another, But its a Good day, good day, good


AkwardIt's odd. It's something. It's trying to get my point across without saying a word. It's possession. Jealousy. Protection. She's mine. She's yours, too, but mostly she's mine. It's akward. It's annoying. It's trying to take her away without me batting an eye. But really it's me.Akward


The EndMaybe it's not such a bad thing, the end. My only friend. A new beginning. Bullshit. The only thing I can trust to be there for me. Always in its arms, my head in the lap of the finish line. It's over. It hurts. But not for long. The end, the real end, is relieving, is revealing, is leaving it all behind. It's shattered mirrors and scattered thoughts. Ships of idealism cresting the horizon, chased away by fleets of reality. Dreams unrealized, books unread, thoughts unthought. Ideas created only to be dThe End
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~Jessika
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~Jessika
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~Jessika
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