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Literature Text
No one would flinch if I jumped off this cliff
I heard that's how Rob died in the first act.
I couldn't get a job at BestBuy,
instead I'll write his suicide note for loose change.
Nietzsche got replaced with iPad app games.
But I rather not picture how I'll pass.
That's why I worship Squidbillies reruns
(whatever else will kill off my brain cells?).
The outside world is ours for the taking,
to chant overused rhetoric -- daily
routine for the clan of zombified fools.
Take me away from your graveyard, so I
could hide myself in bubbles made of silk,
and wait for a dead man's fatal phone call.
I heard that's how Rob died in the first act.
I couldn't get a job at BestBuy,
instead I'll write his suicide note for loose change.
Nietzsche got replaced with iPad app games.
But I rather not picture how I'll pass.
That's why I worship Squidbillies reruns
(whatever else will kill off my brain cells?).
The outside world is ours for the taking,
to chant overused rhetoric -- daily
routine for the clan of zombified fools.
Take me away from your graveyard, so I
could hide myself in bubbles made of silk,
and wait for a dead man's fatal phone call.
Literature
Depression is an Option
Depression is a choice, my dear,
And happiness the same
You choose this illness, don’t you?
What a tragic little game.
Depression is an option, love
Just get up out of bed
Take your tears and worries
And just smile now instead.
Depression is a choice, you see,
And so is suicide.
Just sit back, kick your feet up, dear
Enjoy this perfect ride.
Get over your own standards
Of what everyone should be.
Just smile for once, and maybe
You’ll be living perfectly.
...
But...
Depression is an illness
That we feel so deep within.
Why would anybody choose
To write poetry on their skin?
Unless there lies a reason, dear,
I would not choo
Literature
Frozen
Not all who wander are lost
And not all who are lost, wander
Many, in fact, are stuck
In time, in place, in mind
Unmoving, they search
Never finding what they lost
Because what they lost
is the key to the chains that bind them
keeping them from finding what they are missing the most
Not realizing that what they need
was there all along, hidden inside,
buried in the coils of their desperate search
Blinded by the darkness that surrounds them,
they have lost the ability to see the light
Literature
Things they don't tell you.
Things they don’t tell you about losing your grandfather on a Tuesday night:
When you wake the next morning, you still
need to get out of bed in time for work, you still
have to shower, dress yourself, eat breakfast, brush
your teeth and hair;
and when your mother calls
to check in, you have to comfort her because she lost
her dad last night;
and when you call your grandmother
your voice cannot waver lest you upset her, because
she lost a man she's known for seventy years and even
though she would never hold it against you, you still
feel obligated not to cry;
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Comments4
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depressingly true.