Drugged up on tv. and comic books
Too much media
Can’t think
So many big things
Much bigger than me
I am so small
But still not that small
So many small things, much smaller than me
I feel helpless,
I feel possibilities,
I feel hopeless,
l feel hope,
So many images,
Which ones are the right ones to look at?
Watched hours of some dumb tv show just to keep the edge off
How do I know so many people I’ve never spoken to… that aren’t even real?
Hours upon hours spent alone,
Its so quiet
Its so loud
How can there be so many people in this world?
I want inanimate objects to talk to me.
Do things exist outside of my eyes?
Is the world invented as I see it?
I want to say something profound.
I want to impress others and myself with my profoundness…
I’m not very profound.
It seems that all my thoughts have already been thought.
I find comfort in the fact that others have thought my thoughts though.
It makes me feel less alone.
I like entering into someone else’s ideas and letting them take over me.
I don’t appreciate things enough.
Thanks to those who wrote me... It feels good to be herd.
-liz
http://www.alonelylife.com/showthread.php?tid=3025
I didn't write this, but I really appreciate it.
It seems to capture every person's inevitable search for meaning in their own life or their existence. Realizing that you are not insignificant, but there is only so much you can do.
I too often feel the dichotomy of being two opposing things at once. That in itself is the author slipping into madness and questioning reality itself.
"Do things exist outside of my eyes?
Is the world invented as I see it?"
I really relate to this.
Too much media
Can’t think
So many big things
Much bigger than me
I am so small
But still not that small
So many small things, much smaller than me
I feel helpless,
I feel possibilities,
I feel hopeless,
l feel hope,
So many images,
Which ones are the right ones to look at?
Watched hours of some dumb tv show just to keep the edge off
How do I know so many people I’ve never spoken to… that aren’t even real?
Hours upon hours spent alone,
Its so quiet
Its so loud
How can there be so many people in this world?
I want inanimate objects to talk to me.
Do things exist outside of my eyes?
Is the world invented as I see it?
I want to say something profound.
I want to impress others and myself with my profoundness…
I’m not very profound.
It seems that all my thoughts have already been thought.
I find comfort in the fact that others have thought my thoughts though.
It makes me feel less alone.
I like entering into someone else’s ideas and letting them take over me.
I don’t appreciate things enough.
Thanks to those who wrote me... It feels good to be herd.
-liz
http://www.alonelylife.com/showthread.php?tid=3025
I didn't write this, but I really appreciate it.
It seems to capture every person's inevitable search for meaning in their own life or their existence. Realizing that you are not insignificant, but there is only so much you can do.
I too often feel the dichotomy of being two opposing things at once. That in itself is the author slipping into madness and questioning reality itself.
"Do things exist outside of my eyes?
Is the world invented as I see it?"
I really relate to this.
