I don’t know anymore, I really don’t.
Don’t know who to trust and who to believe.
Cause words are just sweet-coated hollowed out lies presented before inexperienced eyes, non-meanings that have been taken from the ignorant.
Isn’t it true?
Those sounds uttered, spilled from our lips that we so subconsciously want to have meaning but no matter how much we try they virtually don’t?
They’re almost like pieces of the puzzle that have been picked and pulled apart until all that’s left is stale, hard cardboard with splashes of fake, thin color. So that the picture is so scatter-blurred that nothing, and almost everything is a possibility, as cliche as that sounds.
But what do I know?
Cause really what do we all know?
Nothing in fact, at least it seems that way.
So how do we know who are “true friends” are?
The people who show us blacks and blues and all the in-betweens that make this world so watercolor beautiful that you actually can’t express it in a thousand words. Those people that make life worth living and each breath worth breathing cause you know that they actually care even though the world’s as fucked up as it is.
I don’t know, do you?
But even if you did, what’s to reassure that they tell the truth?
Cause the truth hurts doesn’t it?
It’s like the false, flashy lights that bump off the club walls and skim mermaidy across the people’s faces. Acid greens and bright-nail bitting reds that seem to vibrate in the air, so tangibly beautiful in a non-surrealist kind of way. Snippets of pale, frosted, breathtaking golden light that only leave you shiver-aching for more.
But then it never comes now does it?