2003-09-10 @ 5:27 p.m.
You take a look around and realize you aren't where you should be. This isn't the place for people like you. You cling onto anything that seems solid to you.
Solidity can decieve.
Depth is always shallow.
...and you have this coughing, nagging, cold of a life to cling on to. Cling onto this or else, what is there to really hang on to?
Plastic Disease, decorated inside of pretty, little pills. White, little pills that dance on our tongues and make our minds float off...
Plastic Disease, it makes my mind wander, it makes my body wander, it makes me wonder of what a pretty, little pill can do to impede upon us...
My thoughts wander, my mind wanders, and I wonder...
...what is there, really, to cling on to?
...but me, I can say I'm different, I can cling to solidity though it isn't there, and I can wander|wonder within Plastic Disease, within tiny, little pills.
Pretty, little, white pills.
Sealed for fresheness.
Listening to: The noise of the television in the background.
everything © Claudia (2003-2008)