one head light

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Well This Place Is Old
It Feels Just Like A Beat Up Truck
I Turn The Engine, But The Engine Doesn't Turn
Well It Smells Of Cheap Wine & Cigarettes
This Place Is Always Such A Mess
Sometimes I Think I'd Like To Watch It Burn
I'm So Alone, And I Feel Just Like Somebody Else
Man, I Ain't Changed, But I Know I Ain't The Same
But Somewhere Here In Between The City Walls Of Dyin' Dreams
I Think Her Death It Must Be Killin' Me 



so im back at where it all started. im in the land of promise, the land of desire, the land of the retired. thought it sounds awesome, this place is always such a mess, and some times i think id like to watch it burn. i come here, and past just comes up, i mean not like "oh no, i have a broken past, and i love tenesee cause i have a new beginning. thats not it at all. i am who i was in florida, but i ain't changed but i know i ain't the same. these feelings though, that i am feeling they just feel so old, they feel just like a beat up truck, but to your dismay when you turn the engine the engine does turn. i have this old relationship, and i was such an idiot about it. her parents ahted me, her dad threatened my life, and i was all "oh im the 21st century romeo and juliet" i look back at it now and laugh at how mother fluffin retarted idiotic, self exprbed and over dramatic they were (yea i know, im so over it, BUT I AM! its just im still all... tensified...) the girl went to GCA, and she is now back home for fall break, and her mom is here, and i will refuse to call her mis manning but ginger(her first name) all week. see... i used to have a great time with courney(her daughter) i mean we were never that like... searious/hot and heavy with the dating, but we were always freinds, but she was never a bro(just clearifying to all my bros out there) so yea, but this week her and her cousin(who i used to also hang out with who wasnt a bro, )(btw this was in my ho skank years) is going to be here. i kinda wanna be like "heyy, im 18, im an AHHH-dult, i have my licence, i think i am going to take your daughter and your niece to a movie, have a great time, and remind them how much fun we used to have and how you ruined it"  but i dont wanna! but i so do! i am just so torn, i mean i wanna be salt in the wound so bad, i wanna hold on to the grudge, i wanna make her upset, it just feels so good to hold on a little to long... but... i know its not right... i just... need a little indulgance. i need to make myself feel like i can still be loved...


i mean i know i am loved, i know i have freinds who love me, but this whole non kati thing is hard... i was whiped as you all know, and i loved recklessly, i keep having dreams(btw, non of this is as dirty or wrong as your minds could take it)(and i know how far your minds could take it, i have heard your thats what sshe said jokes) but i keep haveing dreams of her, and i keep thinking that ill end up alone, and its just so nice to be loved, and have someone tell you that, and show you that... and ill be blunt... but a kiss is just so sweet (btw... hershys are rippers offers) i know that this is all pretty like "woah... ya should simma" but i hate this all... i dont like it... its not fun... i need my bros, YOU KNOW WHAT! IF I HAD MY BROS ON SATURDAY THAN I WOULDNT EVEN HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THE WHOLE"lets hang out with ex girlfriend and put on fake show of entertainment just to make her mother mad and show her that maybe i am not a complete jerk of a guy... and maybe i could be worth something, and maybe, JUST MOTHER FLUFFIN MAYBE! i am wort your daughter! i just feel so old... just like a beat up truck... i turn the engin but the engin doesnt turn.... i feel like i just got one head light... wow.. i just am being so dramatic, we all just wanna be loved... or feel loved, weather thats by friends or a "significant other" but... i need my friends... and all i have is the potential of an X

1 comment:

Special*K said...

Jacob is brilliant. I love the reference! You are loved, dude. You and your beard are freaking awesome. The end.

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