deteriorating flesh

equals success

EXPLOITED

no one knows, or seems to care. so many things. un-aware.

sometimes, i write letters to myself in class. i found a sheet of paper with some words scratched over some lines. last week some time sounds about right. well here it is:

" when you keep running on hope and hitting this brick wall down every alley and around every corner, your flesh starts to crack, you start closing your eyes, the hope that fuled you seems to seep out of every pore, and yet again you’ve become routine. you expect things, with little room for suprise, and when something IS different, when there is a new cleared path, you cant recognize it, and maybe the truth is – you dont want to"

i should write little side notes about what i am referring to when i write. i tend to forget the exact details of my emotional layout when i write, maybe i block it out. or i genuinely forget. who knows. it makes sense to me, and i suppose maybe thats all that matters.