"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."

-Edgar Allen Poe

An exceprt from the movie 12 Monkeys...

It's a condition of "mental divergence". I find myself on another planet, Ogo, part of an intellectual elite, preparing to subjugate barbarian hordes on Pluto. But even though it's a totally convincing reality in every way...I can feel, breathe, hear...nevertheless, Ogo is actually a construct of my psyche. I am mentally divergent in that I am escaping certain unnamed realities that plague my life here. When I stop going there, I will be well. Are you also divergent, friend?

-L.J. Washington


Saturday, March 13, 2010

It's No Serenade

Amanda says...

So I'm on Day 5 of my detoxification from Baclofen. In total it will take three weeks if everything goes according to plan. Today was the first morning I didn't wake up with a headache in a cold sweat, which was nice. But I am definitely feeling antsy. I have been cleaning everything!!! And thinking way too much.

My doctor was full of shit. She said it would be easy to come off this drug. I have only dropped one of three pills a day and I have felt like shit. I can't even imagine what I would be feeling if I had decided to quit cold turkey.


Nina says...

You know what, Sir Elton John, I'm so glad you are gay and therefore would most likely never write a song for me. Because I would be bitterly disappointed in you. This is by far one of the worst written songs ever. Why do people think it's so romantic?

Your Song

It's a little bit funny this feeling inside
I'm not one of those who can easily hide
(No shit, considering you sound like Captain Obvious.)
I don't have much money but boy if I did
I'd buy a big house where we both could live
(Shut the fuck up, I know your loaded.)

If I was a sculptor, but then again, no
Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show
(You're just a shitty artist. Period.)
I know it's not much but it's the best I can do
My gift is my song and this one's for you
(All I get is this shitty song? Seriously?)

And you can tell everybody this is your song
(Why the hell would I want to do that?)
It may be quite simple but now that it's done
I hope you don't mind
(I do mind, you narcissistic weirdo!)
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world


I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss
(And this concerns me how exactly...?)
Well a few of the verses well they've got me quite cross
(Maybe it's because you are just no good at this.)
But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song
(Again, why do I care?)
It's for people like you that keep it turned on
(Bitch, I always change the channel when this song comes on.)

So excuse me forgetting but these things I do
You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue
(So you're actually admitting you forgot what color my eyes are? Moron!)
Anyway the thing is what I really mean
(And you don't even care!)
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen
(Ha, nice try, but you didn't save yourself, man.)

No comments:

Post a Comment