Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For.

Lost parts, stinging me so cold.

Lost at sea.

Lost, see?

If it is the deep sea, I can see you there.

Except I don't see anyone anymore. I just see a hazy cloud of black. A fine, dull mist. Enveloping everything I do, everything I say. All the lines have blurred, all the edges have gone blurry.

I'm spinning and spinning around and around and I'll never catch my balance.

I'm not afraid.

But lord, am I miserable. Disparate. Melancholy. Isolated, desolate, alone and depraved.

Even if I knew which way was up I wouldn't have the common sense to follow the signs.

If wishes were fishes.

I can't see anything. Nothing's okay.

I want all this to end.

Fade To Black.

I give up.

On you. On everything. On everyone.

There is no point to any of this, so I'm not even going to bother.

Jesus Built My Hotrod.

'Why'd you do it?' is what everyone keeps asking.

'Just a change.'

You'd think someone would realize that such a major change to my outward appearance might signify something more significant.

But then, most don't seem to notice these sorts of things.

I'm on a

Strike

Riot, riot, riot

This is the end of an era

And the beginning of

Nothing

Oh, just then I found a note in my pocket

It read:

Nothing.

Blank pieces of paper. Blank slates.

Can't find the spoon that we once had.

The sugar cube will melt no more.

We belong us, to-to-together.

But we don't. Or at least, I don't.

I've completely

Lost myself

And because of that

I don't even know

How that makes me feel

Swim in feedback, sleep in distortion, lay beneath a sky of sine waves, make love under a blanket of white noise.

Die by the jagged tone of a square wave.

What is this, that she is hiding, this thing that glows so hatefully in the rising moonlight?

Why do I hold this candle? The wax burns and burns and burns my fingertips.

And yet I hold it still.

Lights Out On Division Street.

Cut. Cut. Cut.

God, to cut. What a welcome release. Sometimes, like now, I miss it. I'm surrounded by density, and the edge of a razor always was the key to lightening my load.

But I'm so far past that. So above that. And yet it's still so appealing.

Shiver and burn, shiver and burn.

I don't know where I'm going. What I'm doing.

Spinning and spinning and spinning and spun.

Just show me the way.

Perseverance, Against All Opposition.

Oh, just then I found a note in my pocket

It read:

I want to see you again.

Lord how I want to.

Fuck bad intentions.

I just want to

Live.

I just want to

Love.

I just want to

Learn

From my mistakes

Reshape

Recon

Figure

Metamorphosis

Into some sort of more pure

Thing

I want to know what I have to do, what I need to have.

But the answer is nothing.

There isn't anything I can do. There never has been, and there never will be.

And so I stagnate.

Every day this all makes a little more sense, and everything around me makes a little less.

It baffles me, the catalyst for all of this. Maybe it's all something grander than I realise. Or maybe I know exactly what it is, and that's why my world's been turned inside out.

Extravagant?

My my, how you baffle me, dearest.

I'm nothing but fool's gold. Cubic zirconium. A gilded plate.

It'll all flake off once you pick at it enough.

Wishin' I, wishin' I, wishin' I was there with you.