apathy.
and the sum of its parts.
hanging loosely by a few stings whose tips
i want to cut off quickly
instead of pulling harshly with
the edges left in shambles.
pointless little bugs
fluttering in the lightbulb.
annoying as hell. but im probably much of the same.
damn.
they have WINGS!
and they dont do shit with them.
maybe its symolic.
only...even though the light is beautiful...
its not the only thing to see.
its not the only thing worthwhile.
i have wings to fly and i havent done shit with them.
i need to do something.
bad. bad. badly.
