Faded.
The slickness of the slide.
The roughness of the ride.
F A D E D.
Meeting you was something I suppose I was not ready for.
Something I was not..
wanting?
needing?
Perhaps.. desperate for.
We tend to forget how things played out.
How happy we were then.
THEN.
How is it supposed to work when one is happy, the other wishing to be so?
Cat fights and long nights out.
Staying awake to do absolutely nothing.
Cheap cigarettes and wanna-be trash talk.
And all that time we were wishing to be something.
What exactly distinguishes the absence of light?
What entitles you to think the way you do?
Philosophy is one thing, but it takes an idiot to say the things you do. Smarter than you want the world to think you are, you hide behind a mask.
Every one has one.
Every one needs one.
To protect themselves.
Well, damn it. I've taken mine off.
And I wish you would do the same.
What exactly distinguishes the heart from the mind?
And what exactly makes you mine?
If this isn't the end, then what do we call it?
But excuse me for getting way off topic..
What I'm trying to say is:
Not all of us are like you.
Not all of us can just play tough.
I don't want to say you're special, because that wouldn't be enough.
