Why is it that everything I do is in the interest of avoiding my own vulnerability? I think I’m starting to realize that the purpose of every one of my actions is to lock myself away a little more— to put up just another brick wall between myself and the rest of the world. So while I’m sitting in this cold, dark, space by myself, hating myself, counting my flaws out on the freckles of my skin, I’m doing all of this so that I can never feel right. I’ll never feel strong, I’ll never feel whole, and because of this, it will never come crashing down on me, like it did before with my Mother’s death. I think I’m afraid of that pain, but the sad, fucked up part of it is that I just hurt myself more in the hopes of escaping it.
“Tell me, did you sail across the sun? Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights are faded, and that heaven is overrated? Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star, one without a permanent scar? And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?”—Train
“…we’ve been playin’ a couple of new tunes on the tour and… uh I hope you like it. If you don’t like it…. aw I’m real sorry… I can’t tell you how sorry I am. If you do like it, YOU RIGHT.”—Dave Matthews at Fenway
“Mmm god, traffic jam, got more cars than a beach got sand, suck it up, like to lick it up, fuck it up, till I got home, but no more. I’m a crazy creep, I got it coming to me, but I’m not satisfied the hunger keep on growin. So eat to much, drink to much, want to much, too much.”—Dave Matthews Band