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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Philosophy · #689266
Probably the best and most honest thing I'll ever write
Sometimes I think about murder, and suicide,
And stealing grapes from Safeway,
And I wonder if that makes me a freak, or weird,
‘Cause all I really want is to be different.

Sometimes I think about road signs, and trees,
And mosquitoes, and what it’s like to be dead,
And I wonder if you can really fly around when you’re a ghost,
‘Cause all I really want to do is fly.

Sometimes I think about music, and songs, and couches,
And what it’s like to be on the radio,
And I wonder how you get to be that good,
‘Cause all I really want to be is a great musician.

Sometimes I think about clocks, and computers,
And space, and if time travel is really possible,
And I wonder if I’ll be able to go back in time,
‘Cause all I really want to do is change some things I’ve done.

Sometimes I think about paper, and pens,
And words, and thoughts, and whether I’m really even here or not,
And I wonder if you get the messages I write,
‘Cause all I really want is to tell you I’m sorry for hurting you.

Sometimes I think about fate, and destiny,
And predetermination, and piles of shit,
And I wonder if it isn’t all the same thing,
‘Cause all I really want is to control my own life.

Sometimes I think about black holes, and circles,
And yellow lines, and infinity,
And I wonder where it all ends, or if it ever does,
‘Cause all I really want is to rest.

Sometimes I think about insanity, and freedom,
And dreams, and my mind, and if I really have one or not,
And I wonder if this is all a dream I’m having while
Still in my mothers womb, or if I’m merely part of
Someone else’s dream, or if it really matters anyway,
‘Cause all I really want is to understand where I am.

Sometimes I think about death, and my own death,
And how it will be, and if it will be dramatic,
And will anyone notice, or even care, and will it hurt,
And will I be free to be different, and fly, and make music,
And change the past, and express myself, and have control,
And rest, and finally understand,
And I wonder when it will be,
‘Cause all I really want to do is die.

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