Tiffany Lamp (Third Wise Man?)

I look and my mind can't sit still. It wonders, but then comes back to something I thought I had let go for a while now. Well apparently I haven't. Damnit. I thought I could get this out of my mind, out of my life, and its stuck within me. I think it it became a part of me? Am I crazy for saying that? What difference does it make, I really don't care at this point, I just want to know one thing. I'll ask when the time is right for that I suppose. Friday.

It has been nailed, sealed and made sure to never be removed for it would take something away. I'm becoming more unstable I think in reality. I've been sick now for maybe a few solid weeks. Is my body unsure of what to do? How to take care of itself? I need to eat. Why is this rant changing to a different subject?

I need to make sure that gold is delivered. Funny. Gold the last of the three, the most saught after? Well don't you worry. It will make a FUCKING entrance. I will make sure this one won't get thrown out, won't get respected by them. You will fucking cry when you see this, I will make damn sure of it. You will fucking see. I fucking...swear.

I don't know what I will do with myself if it isn't accepted. What would happen to it? Would it just be thrown out? No. It couldn't be. It would such a shame on their own part. Look at me. Look at them. Look at her. Look at me again. Now look at him. Look at his shoes. Look at my shoes. Look at your own shoes. Look at me. Look at me in the eyes. Look at me again. Look deep inside me. Whats there?

Vancancy. And it used to be filled with a powerful energy givin off by a special mind. A crazy crazy mind which I can never get enough of for some reason.

Yup. You got me. I know that You will read this and make fun of me, laugh at how stupid I am, laugh at a lot of things I suppose. But frankly I just don't care. I have my mind I guess.

I am A Tiffany Lamp.

One More Left

One more final left, then rage winter.

Shit I can't remember what I was going to write. There was a reason...

Oh yeah.

That fifth grade crush keeps coming back to haunt me. Was it maybe because I watched a romantic comedy--Zack and Miri Make a Porno; (wait what!?) and made me witness some enjoyable moments I even had? What is going on! And now it's accessible to me as well makes me wonder if things have changed? I shouldn't jinx it, I have a feeling I will. Crap. Drap. Rap. Now tap it.

I need to write some more. I need to write some more. I need to write some more, but I feel as if there is nothing to write about? I've tried to do some writing but it just hasn't felt right.

I wrote a song with my friend. Its beautiful. It sounds exactly what beauty would sound like if it were personable. Sadly though it isn't, and therefor can not be fully understood unless listened too. It feels nice to record something, and see as it grows bit by bit slowly over time. Its very rewarding. I hope to make more. When its fully complete I will share it with the no ones who read this, I suppose I do know who reads it but I really don't.

What if this post was tagged with random shit? Maybe I'll experiment, but then again at the same time I feel it will ruin the vibe of this bloog. I think if I were to tag, I will need to experiment where its much more applicable. Though I like the idea of this being some sort of secret "gem" on the internet I suppose. Makes it seem that it is more enjoyable to read and write for this...thing. Call it what you want. I don't even know why I really ahve this anymore? What if I did stop writting? Would it bum people out, make them happy, confused, concerned? Why am I even worring about that? It's the internet no one cares about anyone on the internet. Fact.