But I'm tired of the cycles of life. I'm tired of feeling as if everything is cyclical, returning us to the same point in history over and over again. I'm tired of the unshakable weights around our necks, and I'm tired of the magnetic pull of the moving sidewalk of life.
The names, faces, places, and vices can all change, but it's still all the same underneath. It doesn't matter what you're hung up on, because it always means the same thing. Some might find this reassuring, at least if you're going to get hurt, you know the color of the truck that's gonna run you over. Is it wrong to hope for more? Is it wrong to think that maybe the truck will swerve one of these times, granting that final reprieve? From all that I have seen in my short, short life, that hope is merely a dellusion.
Ironically, it's an Eve6 song giving me solace tonight. Stupid Laguna Beach making me think so late at night. Stupid roommates not housesitting with me. Stupid interweb not being all over the world allowing Courtney to be online and talk me down (or up) from my pit of philosophical despair. Mostly stupid Laguna Beach.
in this time of introspection
on the eve of my election
i say to my reflection
god, please spare me more rejection
'cause my peers, they criticize me
and my ex-wives all despise me
try to put it all behind me
but my redneck past is nipping at my heels
(not Eve6, but so much better.