more humid than human

life sucks and everyones heard it, they've lived it, even those born with a silver spoon in their mouth eventually will find a way to gag on it. but don't expect a helping hand to be reached out from day one to day none for anything but to slap you and shove you back down. to point a finger at you, to place the blame on another s(h)elf. think of the walmart black friday sale where the poor employee got trampled to death. you are a welcoming mat in front of a door that holds opportunity behind it. you will be in the way. you won't be noticed as a human being but as a tool for means of advancement. you will be stepped on. you will have footprints and scars, you will feel pain and regret long after your name is forgotten. the more you cry the harder you die. the bigger target you become. this is everything in the world that's hidden behind wallpaper, behind painted pictures of flowers that won't ever die on ink that will slowly fade. deteriorate. it's whats been painted over but chips in time. fill pieces of nothing into the sockets and pretend that theres still a light on upstairs, but all the activity is going down and out. its the ground we pave over and build streets on, its the muddy bodies of water with murdered bodies in water. nobody wants to hear about the bad times, nobody wants to hear about the good times unless there is material or status gain. unless they get a piece of the action. a line in your will and then a will for their line. there is sunshine somewhere but you have to get through the darkest days to see it, through the coldest people to feel any warmth. i used to see the beauty in the world, what made my vision get blurry? or am i seeing more clear now, now that i can see how ugly and selfish it is? this is truth, and it is rough. there's something wrong with me to look forward to an epidemic, to hope i get h1n1 just to cough on you. to watch the world die, the good people along with the bad because there's no savior that can tell the difference when he looks in our eyes, when he has a conversation with us. every single person i thought would heal wounds made more. blood should become a new accessory, it does no good on the inside. this is my karma and i'm going to suffer it out for a few days like a bad cold. but i will get over it, and i will get by. reverse "oz"mosis, where the color fades and the world is black and white. good and evil. no in between. its so simple when you realize the world is only out to finish you. think of it like a video game, one challenge after the next and each only gets tougher despite how much experience you gain. sometimes you even have to start over. and people complicate the journey more than they help it. they try to slip the blindfold over your eyes and pretend that its not the curtain call. but no, it's not cold outside because its seeping over from how you are on the inside. the sun is not going to shine tomorrow just so you can see your way to another way to fuck me over. the end of the tunnel has a light, and its started by a match, and a couple is a match, and a match starts a fire, and a light is a fire. can you twist everything you want to sound how you want it to? my words fall off your ears and you only hear your own. but you are a tiny pebble in a pile of rocks. have you done anything significant? will you? you like me the most when i hate everything about me. well, sorry. there are not light switches to emotions, there is only a hope that starts to dim and a memory that starts to fade. you forget the details in time. and the world does not revolve around you but fuck. i'd be lying if i said it hadn't stopped for a second at one point, back when i did still care about you. it stopped long enough for me to get a good enough look at you and show you gravity in the form of turning my back on you. i still carry the knife wound, it's a reminder, much better than any post it note or blackberry alert. there are paul bearers waiting on bridges and rooftops like ambulance chasing lawyers. we may waste forever trying to find the good in life. we may waste the good in life trying to find forever. i lost my wide eyed innocence somewhere in between.