Sometimes I feel like screaming..

I close my eyes. Times like this, my head goes down.

Sometimes, its too much. Too much. Too many responsibilities, too many people, too much. Its overwhelming. Too many bonds that bind you to this world. What is the purpose of it all? Why are those bonds important to us.

Sometimes i hate this thing they call an education. It may end up teaching you too much. So much, that you begin to wonder. About everything. About how its all a lie. Its always been a lie.

And then you see them, clearly, each and everyone of them. Content with reality they have been given. And every passing day, the world becomes a bit stupider.

I too am guilty of this crime, of losing myself in a moment of joy. I forgot, that true art is not born out of happiness, or success or luxury. In fact it resides in sorrow, discontentment, beauty, nature.

It has to end. I hope its soon, for my sake. I wont last much longer.

Love Thing

Ladies and gentlemen, From Troy Michigan, would you please welcome, Stillwater!!!

She walks with a purpose, leading me on with my hand, only to stop intermittently rushing back to my embrace. It's in her eyes, the cool breeze blowing her sweet smell at me. It's going to happen. We both can feel it.
"Been broken hearted before but that's the last time that's happening"

We walk into my room. I turn her around, harshly. She stares at my face. Arcs her head and moves it closer.

Her body shudders in my grasp. She takes a deep breath. Her heart races, as my hands move over her sleek perfect body.

I throw her onto the bed. She looks excited. Her eyes glowing in the dark, reflecting Stillwater. My sweet love thing.

The music is perfect, sleek. It accents every movement. My chest pounding as my heart tries to jump out. The guitar cutting through everything. All senses heightened. Every note means something.

She stares, into the distance. Takes my cigarette, smokes it. And stares. I stare at her. She turns to me with guilt laden eyes. And then she grabs my head, and the second verse begins.

Sweet love thing, real love thing.