I feel sick. The way you feel when you know you are heading straight for the ground.
I'm starting to feel like I can't cope with it all.
Double your money for half the price. Speedfreak camelot tries and tries. You will always run but never arrive. Come fucking get them, yo, dude. It has been one of those weeks where you(are my sunshine) can't close your eyes without falling. One of those days where you are thirty degrees and freezing. And she open her mouth to her fingers and showed the world what her wrists would have looked like, were she someone different. I never knew how to do this but I know how you're thinking. I need myself for so many things. I am my own wax wings. I will break the lower rungs to build a higher ladder to fall when it crumbles when I've taken too many pieces. Hold the mirror to my face and see what you've been missing. I am the only one with my problems. Don't bother to busy idle hands. Static shell surrounds my eyes, protecting me from what I think is good. Sunburned and bleeding, peeling my layers. Shredding? Shredded Wheat? Shucking Corn? Flakes of that corn? I am the lifesaver you suck on or cling to? It will be better when I'm older.
I have adopted a spider that lives beside my mailbox. When I come home, and we see each other, he runs into his little crevace, and I run into the house. It is mutual respect derived from a mutual terminal fear.
This morning, I was sitting on the front campus, watching the sky go from blue to grey and back again, when I noticed an ant crawling over my backpack. I followed it along my bag for ten minutes, as it scoured for food. After a while, it started to look lost. I stuck my finger out in a friendly gesture to bring it back to the ground, but it just stopped, or went around. Eventually, I got him off my bag and just watched him roam around on a large rock.
Normally, I hate insects and spiders.
I need some sort of perspective.