you're such a jerk
[nov 22 2003, 22:55]
why did you?
how could you?
why can't you just...?
that's what they'll say. that's what they always say. but they never understand. nobody understands.
and when they do, i'll answer 'why should i? how could you? i could, but i never will...'
and they'll scratch their heads and wonder what the hell i'm talking about.
what have we done to you they'll say. and i won't be able to answer. because they didn't do anything. which is the exact problem...
they don't understand. they never did and probably never will.
what they did to me... i wonder what they did for me. i'm the one with the shovels when others say dig. i'm the one with the false smile on my face when the others smile, too. i'm the one who gets you out of trouble. everytime. you don't even have to ask. i'll be there. i always was and i always will be.
it's not that i don't like them. i really like most of them pretty much. but hearing them tapping their shoulders and congratulating each other to another really great show while i'm crawling on the ground, removing the remnants of half a day's work shows me how deceitful they are. most of them.
i don't want fame, no thank you, sir. i don't want glory. if i did, i'd have to be diffent and i probably would be different.
i just want acceptance. gratitude. just a little. and not only muttering thankyouyoudidanicejobthere but actually really, really, really meaning it.
i can't stand it. i can't stand being in a room full of people who are busy with themselves. i don't need attention but i need company. sometimes.
you haven't seen me happy yet, neither sad nor angry, neither depressed nor full of joy. i've been dissecting, analyzing and disassembling these feelings for too long to actually feel them.
just like remorse...
yes, that's what i'll say when they ask. tomorrow. or whenever after that...
charon
how could you?
why can't you just...?
that's what they'll say. that's what they always say. but they never understand. nobody understands.
and when they do, i'll answer 'why should i? how could you? i could, but i never will...'
and they'll scratch their heads and wonder what the hell i'm talking about.
what have we done to you they'll say. and i won't be able to answer. because they didn't do anything. which is the exact problem...
they don't understand. they never did and probably never will.
what they did to me... i wonder what they did for me. i'm the one with the shovels when others say dig. i'm the one with the false smile on my face when the others smile, too. i'm the one who gets you out of trouble. everytime. you don't even have to ask. i'll be there. i always was and i always will be.
it's not that i don't like them. i really like most of them pretty much. but hearing them tapping their shoulders and congratulating each other to another really great show while i'm crawling on the ground, removing the remnants of half a day's work shows me how deceitful they are. most of them.
i don't want fame, no thank you, sir. i don't want glory. if i did, i'd have to be diffent and i probably would be different.
i just want acceptance. gratitude. just a little. and not only muttering thankyouyoudidanicejobthere but actually really, really, really meaning it.
i can't stand it. i can't stand being in a room full of people who are busy with themselves. i don't need attention but i need company. sometimes.
you haven't seen me happy yet, neither sad nor angry, neither depressed nor full of joy. i've been dissecting, analyzing and disassembling these feelings for too long to actually feel them.
just like remorse...
yes, that's what i'll say when they ask. tomorrow. or whenever after that...
charon