musings of a borken hermit....

there's really nothing i hate more than reflecting on my self... thinking about deep and intense stuff... acknowledging things...etc. etc....
these days i have too much time and there's no escape....

i had a chat with dorothy the other day
her uplifting depression comforted me...
she drank herself into a stupor and i was jealous of escapism...
dylan was uselss too w/ his musings on death and pride...
where were c.s and alice? they were always good for distraction...
they were probably seduced by that damn rabbit...

i'm stuck in never never land...
never grow up
never get a job
never drive a car...
captain hook pretends to be my eternal lover
but at dinner he slips me something and i stumble...
tink keeps biting me and blinding me with her spark and i hate her
peter pan abandoned me and won't reveal the secret...
where is my pot of gold? where is the markee with my name on it?

the silver screen is tainted with my blood
my tears have created an ocean
my being is a new continant
i stare at the bleak road ahead and i can't breathe!
my vision is gone... everything is gone...
the limited box sparks some hope but that's not enough to keep me afloat...