Tuesdays...
9/16/03 01:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alasanondon't call you baby unless they mean it.
there's a frantic sort of dancing going on outside. i don't know exactly what's going on, but the drums and screaming won't let me rest. i've shut all the shades and locked the doors with as many locks as are allotted to me, but i'm still afraid. things are so out of my control. for all i know it's a celebration of life and living and the happiness that is implied by the misery of the human condition, but i can't quite bring myself to care when all i want is rest.
We know he's in there, and we hope he'll come out and play with us sometime. He doesn't know what he's missing. We're calling and calling, but no dice, no cigar, not even the merest crumb of a chocolate chip cookie. He's too afraid of who we are and what we represent. He's too scared of freedom and light and joy, so he locks himself up like a miser of happiness, hoping that we'll go away. We won't, of course. We're here to stay in the most absolute of ways, and it's him who will have to adjust to us, because we don't really care.
No, really. Things are sleek and fine as a fish-fattened seal. I'm looking forward to pudding, and soon will have to find a new way to colour inbetween the hours.
let me in, let me in------i'm getting sleepy and want to go to bed.
there's a frantic sort of dancing going on outside. i don't know exactly what's going on, but the drums and screaming won't let me rest. i've shut all the shades and locked the doors with as many locks as are allotted to me, but i'm still afraid. things are so out of my control. for all i know it's a celebration of life and living and the happiness that is implied by the misery of the human condition, but i can't quite bring myself to care when all i want is rest.
We know he's in there, and we hope he'll come out and play with us sometime. He doesn't know what he's missing. We're calling and calling, but no dice, no cigar, not even the merest crumb of a chocolate chip cookie. He's too afraid of who we are and what we represent. He's too scared of freedom and light and joy, so he locks himself up like a miser of happiness, hoping that we'll go away. We won't, of course. We're here to stay in the most absolute of ways, and it's him who will have to adjust to us, because we don't really care.
No, really. Things are sleek and fine as a fish-fattened seal. I'm looking forward to pudding, and soon will have to find a new way to colour inbetween the hours.
let me in, let me in------i'm getting sleepy and want to go to bed.
