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Something to Do Before I Die
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It's Days Like This
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Mood:
Melodramatic
i'm losing ground
you know how this world can beat you down
i'm made of clay
i fear i'm the only one who thinks this way
I Do Not Want This
Nine Inch Nails
It's days like this that send silent screams rolling through my head bowling balls in search of suicidal pins.
It's days like this that makes my skin tighten around flesh that wants to leap out and be free of me.
It's days like this that my force of will is focused on the most basic tasks, like breathing and sitting and typing.
It's days like this where my energy is spent keeping my fingers and finger nails away from my own skin.
It's days like this where holding my breath is accidental and the tears come up like thick glistening mud next to the spot where you just stepped down.
It's days like this when I wonder where I left my razors. Where one might purchase an old fashined shaving blade with a good heavy handle. When I want my lighter back.
It's days like this when, if I forget, I find myself sitting up, so tense I am shaking and my throat hurts from keeping it constricted. When my jaw hurts from clenching it and I want to claw out my eyes for being so dry.
It's days like this when I can't help but think it's my own damned fault for being where I am wondering how I could watch myself deliberately make my way here.
It's days like this where I dislike everything and hate everyone. I avoid social situations and try not to talk to people I like.
It's days like this when only melodrama will do, but even it doesn't reach the level that I feel. I wish I could tear away my own throat. I wish I could carve out my own tongue, I wish I could burn my hands, I wish I could throw myself away.
It's days like this I think what a fucker God is, the wonderful world that I was tossed into and the myriad of chances I've been given to fuck it all up.
It's days like this when I can't remember any good times, any promises of protection or caring I might have traded with someone else.
It's days like this when I can't concieve of a time when there are no days like this.
It's days like this when I am weak and insignificant and stupid, I can't keep up, I can't make a difference and, in the end, I can only be part of the problem.
It's days like this when everything is too bright, when noise feels like scratching in my ears and the more anyone wants to talk to me, the more I want to stop my ears.
It's days like this when the smallest weight or responsibility seems too great. And I want out.
i want to know everything
i want to be everywhere
i want to fuck everyone in the world
i want to do something that matters
I Do Not Want This
Nine Inch Nails
you know how this world can beat you down
i'm made of clay
i fear i'm the only one who thinks this way
I Do Not Want This
Nine Inch Nails
It's days like this that send silent screams rolling through my head bowling balls in search of suicidal pins.
It's days like this that makes my skin tighten around flesh that wants to leap out and be free of me.
It's days like this that my force of will is focused on the most basic tasks, like breathing and sitting and typing.
It's days like this where my energy is spent keeping my fingers and finger nails away from my own skin.
It's days like this where holding my breath is accidental and the tears come up like thick glistening mud next to the spot where you just stepped down.
It's days like this when I wonder where I left my razors. Where one might purchase an old fashined shaving blade with a good heavy handle. When I want my lighter back.
It's days like this when, if I forget, I find myself sitting up, so tense I am shaking and my throat hurts from keeping it constricted. When my jaw hurts from clenching it and I want to claw out my eyes for being so dry.
It's days like this when I can't help but think it's my own damned fault for being where I am wondering how I could watch myself deliberately make my way here.
It's days like this where I dislike everything and hate everyone. I avoid social situations and try not to talk to people I like.
It's days like this when only melodrama will do, but even it doesn't reach the level that I feel. I wish I could tear away my own throat. I wish I could carve out my own tongue, I wish I could burn my hands, I wish I could throw myself away.
It's days like this I think what a fucker God is, the wonderful world that I was tossed into and the myriad of chances I've been given to fuck it all up.
It's days like this when I can't remember any good times, any promises of protection or caring I might have traded with someone else.
It's days like this when I can't concieve of a time when there are no days like this.
It's days like this when I am weak and insignificant and stupid, I can't keep up, I can't make a difference and, in the end, I can only be part of the problem.
It's days like this when everything is too bright, when noise feels like scratching in my ears and the more anyone wants to talk to me, the more I want to stop my ears.
It's days like this when the smallest weight or responsibility seems too great. And I want out.
i want to know everything
i want to be everywhere
i want to fuck everyone in the world
i want to do something that matters
I Do Not Want This
Nine Inch Nails
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