Success is like the taste of blood, once you experience it, it comes back and haunts you wanting for more. Wait, I cant write about success for there is a lingering thought that just wont go away:
Shattered pieces of my ragged body once more color the pathways to success; Futile struggle of finding love plagues like vicious dreams. Faith, trust, sureity, security are just the words made for fools, and the optimistic is always slained. Life's lessons are conjuror's tricks and the truth is never revealed.
The thought just died there, and my mind has gone blank. (Back to the prepration for Cal III exam)
2 comments:
shattered pieces?
there is something bothersome about the words "shattered pieces"
first i thought it was soo cliché. it seems like "shattered peices" is often used in stupid songs and 14 yr old girls' poetry.
but then i couldn't think of any song or stupid poem that used the words "shattered peices", so i started to think what "shattered peices" means.
and sure enough i cam to the conclusion that if a piece breaks off of something, the thing is shattered, but a piece itself isnt shattered. basically a thing is shattered or in pieces. so shattered peices is a bit of a well, a redundance, isnt it?
look what my university has done to me! it's put my brain in a muffin mold and now i think like the 11 other muffins.
(no winks to your assmuffin thing. no relations. i really mean muffin mold as in cookie sheet)
Blood reminds me of the "HighGate Cemetary Case"...
Research and post... its interesting
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