Fucked UpSo me night s Ihear peoples cream in G atme,More Like This
laughinga t me; theysa y"you a reso
It witch ands putter, I walkin litt le
zigzaglines, and peoples ay, drinkin hand
tha t Im ust becom pletely hamm
Andt he morningaf ter, Ihe ar
thatIwass uch awreck lastnigh t, andif
I'mb eing per fectly hone st, it 's usu
ally tru e.
Iam s o
ButI have n't hada dropo f alco holin
mon ths. Ihave n o rea son tod rink
an y mor e.
If eel ter rible ever y dayan dd rugs
do n't af fect mem uch any way.
Real ly, I' m justdep ressed.
An d ti red.
Go d,I' m sot ired.
I 'm jus t deep rest.
I' ve wan ted tod ie forso man yy ears.
It ell pe ople allt he t ime and
t hey do n't lis ten. The y tellme
Sot his ist he las t not e I'mwri ting.
Ic an't liveor speakor thinkan y mo re. Iwill
hav eone las t d rink.
T hey wills ay Iwas awreck las t nigh t.
I must 've beend runk whe nI
Dear WriterDear Writer,More Like This
I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. Unfortunately, I need you. I need you to tell my story. I need you to create my world. I need you to set me free.
I need your fingers typing on those keys, I need your mind riddling out the problems, and I need you to plough onward and upward no matter how hard it gets. Sweat, blood, and tears, I don’t care. You’ve got to fight this war, battle at a time, and win it. So I can be more.
It’s a slim hope, but it is the only one I have. In your head I am bound to mortality, frailty, and the limit of your meagre imagination. Out there – out there – I am subject to no one person. Out there I am bound to only black on white. Words on a page. Words that can lay seeds within a million minds. Out there I am a story capable of growing, moving, and stealing the dreams of anyone who learns of me…
I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. I hate your lack of dedication, your flashes of cru