| They made a statue of us |
Jan. 29th, 2007|03:12 am |
"This is how it works
It feels a little worse"
There's no higher form of flattery than imitation.
And yet, I think I should be different.
I think maybe something could be better.
It could have been flawless.
Other people might ignore the flaws.
I love them.
To an extent.
Everyone I used to know on this website is gone.
Sometimes, I've been able to track where they've gone.
It's a strange situation.
Some of them are highly successful in their own right.
Some have had really rough times.
I miss them, even though I could reach out and touch some of them.
I'm pretty sure a lot of people hate me.
But they hate me for the right reasons.
They hate me for who I am.
It's beautiful on a level I never really contemplated before.
And I wish I could change ...
But I guess this is what got me here.
"I have dreams of orca whales and owls
But I wake up in fear
You will never be my
You will never be my
You will never be my dear, dear friend." |
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