Sunday, March 11, 2012

And They All Have A Story

I'm so fucking sick of it.  Sick down to my bowels, deeper even into my marrow, of the smoke in mirrors, the Internet Avatars, the hipster glitter-in-your-face-glamour, the fucking fakers.  Genuine is so gauche, it seems.  They all want a fucking sarcastic spiel before they'll even consider you relevant.

Little left in the world that's genuine, except the sun, moon, wind, earth and the movements of the planets.  I must stop myself from believing in people, it only leads to tears.  If only I could just become an element or planet, I would never hurt.  What the hell is wrong with people? 

Pallers - The Kiss

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