Jameson, beer bongs, margaritas, over-indulging in alcohol.... Not even close... That jaded feeling you get, slipping away, feeling vulnerable, chasing the dream, the dragon into it's own lair. Back and forth again and again. I can't even stand straight dreaming of these insecure delusions, of this world I once controlled. Now I've let go and it takes me higher. I can't bare to witness another day go by without searching for that feeling, that drug that rush, that fucking implanted sense of godlike feeling. I can't say what I want, I can't say what I want to, I can only feel, imagine, create in my head and spew it all out on a fucking blog. Goddamn you, Goddamn you I say. Fuck your commandments and fuck your righteous ways, this is me, who I am. I don't give a damn. (Don't worry, I'm not in a bad mood.)
People tell me what to say, what to wear, how to say, who to say it to. I say FUCK YOU!
Some say you are a part of me, some say you are all of me, I say you are JUST a part of me. Wandering away in the night while I sleep I imagine someone else, something else, somewhere else. But I awake and I realize it's all been false. The dream, the daze, the way I was.
If this is what you wanted, why didn't you come get it...
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