/funk

every day's just like the last
you sit and wait for time to pass
you swear you'd sell your soul for some change
you don't believe that life occurs
in between meaningful words
you starve yourself to death on the mundane

it's a sort of waking death
that steals your heart but leaves you breath
a cold and brutal winter of the soul
you'll sit and weep at the sunrise
further consumed by all the lies
that make you human, a piece of the whole

but it can't be all that bad
if you don't remember what it was you had
this numbness dissipates with memory
leaves me shivering that much more
if i shake myself to pieces
can i be restored?


i was in a horrible, horrible, horrible, no-good, very bad mood today. beers at the pub [as per usual] with the guys seemed to fix me right up. i need a new job. the move went extremely well [i only have THREE boxes left to unpack. god only knows where the hell the crap they contain is going to fit] and hannah and i are fairly settled in. i'm impatient for the next accountability meeting with griff, nat, nate, jason and jon - which is good, because i've messed up enough already these past two days. here's to hoping i'm more typative tomorrow.