Something I co-wrote with my boyfriend, we share generally the same thoughts... Spoiler Warning Goth-ness Inside Spoiler Passions There's nothing terribly wrong with feeling lost, so long as that feeling precedes some plan on your part to actually do something about it. Too often a person grows complacent with their disillusionment, perpetually wearing their "discomfort" like a favorite shirt. I can't say I'm very pleased with where my life is just now... but I can't help but look forward to where it's going. the passions that drive us should be the ones we respect and admire. To feel contempt for one's own motivations is a vulgar thing. Too often, it seems, I've succumbed to less-than admirable compulsions, driven by this furiously reprehensible machine of mine. So many things inside that I can do without - desires and urges. It always comes to this. If I really had a desire to live, I would've been more aware of how easy it is to die, would've chosen my actions more wisely. By the time I write again, I hope to be as cold as the moon that lights the sky. Love I detest sleep. I've got better things to do. Besides, I find it frightening - to awaken and be unsure of everything you remember about life not being just part of a dream. Waking means I've slept, and sleep dissolves what certainty I have left. I've excluded happiness as one of those possibilities we seek for ourselves. Oh, I still want it, but that's beside the point. Contentment - they say it's the ultimate hapiness, but I can't even wish for that. I don't even want the desire to be content. I can only hope for Silence. I love you immensely, And to prove it, I shall obliterate all of my affection and interest for you. Just like before, but different. I cannot hurt what I do not acknowledge. I don't know of anyone that I love, or of anyone that loves me, but I give you what I can. I will give you my nothing. Well this is literally the first and last poetry-like thing I'm ever posting...