Video killed the radio star.

"Let's be quiet now," she says in her shaking voice. I gave no reason, but she picks me out anyways. I miss that girl, i do. She's late and I'm waiting loose in my chair. The clear ray of glass in the door wouldn't be enough for me if she were to walk by. It's raining now like it was that Saturday morning. I held her like it was more. The lighting would be the same, too, if these florescent lights were off, but I'm still sitting loosely in my chair at school, chiseling creativity from pieces of my mind, missing you right now.

Be my berry, paint me blue! I'm into contradictions.

10/3/08

Driven by inspiration, I'm deprived and i blame it on conformity. I miss you like i lost myself. I'm searching, but you're still here. We're all looking for fulfilment, just like i wrote about freshman year. Our hearts are so full, so empty; empty and heavy. Floating away, evacuating poisonous environment. A stranger told you so, she told you right. You'll all get out, but maybe not tonight. In a commercial life, we need money to survive, but I'm striving on sense of wonder and SEX DRIVE. My market company is discovery; discover you, who's gonna discover me? Rise me up girl, rise me up. Get me high, we do it so well, you know we do it so well. 'Cause prize possessions come in plastic bags and brown envelopes some girl leaves in my mailbox. The rest are not possessed, BUT THEY ARE ALL STILL MINE. Yes, irony is thoughtless and sometimes unclear, but my best friend still wears a green lacy bra and I'd imagine too, sexy lingerie!

"Please the teen, they run our economy. 10 million market advertising by the time I'm 18." How did we get here? Video killed the radio star.

I won't change the same as you, i won't be your MTV. "Please excuse my hands," she says underrating instead of degrading. And another sings about no change and Tupac with a smile on her face. WHAT FESTERS IN YOUR SOUL?! Say it confidently. Be mindful as a lover and save our heavy hearts; our souls are souring free still. I like to write in irony, but let me ask you this; do you read the book or watch the movie? Dig for truth or only see what you're shown. And coming back to our friend Chris McCandless, what's your reason to escape?

That's all she wrote. It's all relative and he sings about procrastination in Chemistry class!