Somewhere in a corner of the little island Singapore,
A guy puts bits and pieces of the internet together,
Woven in with threads of passion and a dash of dreams.
Well. . Least that's what he'd have you think.
A minute of silence to the Dreamers.
Those who died believing, trying, striving and dreaming.
Who became Realists because their dreams were shot down.
Who had forgotten their friends; Passion and Purpose.
Now a rare, unprotected species in this unforgiving, practical world.
Whose fault is it; who murdered those dreams?
Dreams of and often from brilliant minds,
Now dulled to its rotten core.
If you see them, don’t be afraid.
Befriend and ask about their heritage.
Maybe then you’ll get to see how things truly used to be.
Maybe then you can join them, to dream like them, once more young and free.
Then you’ll understand that they’ve asked for is but one simple thing;
Harmony.
To live to share.
To dare to dream.
I’m armed to the teeth
Like a fucking animal
I ruin everything
I get my bony hands on
And here we go, now
Over the bridge of sighs
We will get a cross like christ, crucified
It’s like a birth but it is in reverse
Never gets better, always gets worse
I’ll gnaw at anything
New england is mine, and
It owes me a living
I want to feel like I feel when I’m asleep
No one is ever going to want me (via whitebloodocean)