what happened to me?
since i met you all i write is shitty poetry
i create my own structure
there's a occasional rhyme scheme
but lately (as in, the two years i've known you) my writing has been comprised of
the way my brain functions
im no longer worthy of being mentioned in your blog posts
so neither are you
he's a writer
he's nice
but i cant even think of anything that makes him better than you
except he drives a car and pays for me
he doesn't even get movies.
or kubrick.
is it really that hard to find a kubrick fan?
my god i'm outta my mind with pretentious crap
i try and think about eternity and mortality and it freaks me out
so i'll try this whole college thing
but if it epically fails
i'm moving back home with my mom where i'll write sonnets all day long and eat cake.
i'll wave farewell to the world and create my own parallel universe where kubrick is god and people spend their days in dark corners watching movies and reading novels. everyone lives online
and you're not invited.
not that i resent you
its just that i can't get rid of you
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