good old punkish alternative funk.

i rarely have nothing to say. there is no suitable reaction to adopt either. they think i'm severely layered and unfathomnable.

sometimes people tell you they know you - not because they do - but because they're trying to get to know you. 

i want to be whole, and not to give little pieces of me to this that and the other person. when i think about my life - it's my life - and i don't want to discover that my life is about these people and me.

i can never practise enough to play that chord because my fingers can't stretch 5 frets.

i can never write enough to feel alright.

i can never sing soprano because i wasn't made that way.

i can never listen enough to understand.

i can never say enough to comfort the elderly man who lost his legs to a traffic accident.

i can never hurt enough to really let go.

i can never discipline myself enough to not anger my parents.

i can never try enough to deny myself.

because love and hate are only as different as ego and pride.

look.     just look at this mess.

what happened?