There was once,
When the birds stop singing,
When the kids stop playing,
When the dads stop caring,
When the hopeless stops praying.
I rise, when this big-white-floating thingy shows itself, avoiding pedestrians in my hoodie and direct sunlight. I'm not some kind of mystic creature that haunts living things with sharp claws or sharp teeth. My eyes are brown, my blood is red, I breath oxygen, and all my hair and nails are perfectly trimmed. Looking at the people fighting at the crossroad. Some people shouting, some people honking, some people pointing at things, those popping veins on their foreheads, the traffic lights keep changing colors. Seeing that girl not noticing she's been walking her dog with her dog's shit under her shoes. Catching at the right moment when that man lights his cigarette on the wrong end. That robbery over there, with a man holding a big bag of money and the policemen are chasing him. You can really see everything from up here. Some people choose to be ignorance, some people are just plain stupid. I choose to ignore that woman, about three miles over there with her green binoculars.
In the end, this internet thing is finally deciding to stay, after all. More nudity, more violence, more bullying. Browsing through this entire forum, discussing how a small creature can cause a horrifying, slow, painful death. It's inspiring, though. Even a small flap of butterfly wings can set off a horrible storm somewhere. I look everywhere. Everyone's got their own iPhone. Everyone's looking down. It's an epidemic. A fucking real zombie apocalypse, if you will. Along with their routine. Get up at eight, go to work, having lunch at twelve, finish at five, swearing on the traffic at six, dinner at seven, relaxing after dinner, and what I mean by relaxing is: checking on their smartphone simultaneously (if you're alone as fuck), and then go to bed at ten or eleven, get up at eight, and so on. Me, on the other hand, fucking hate routine. I do different things everyday. If one thing is consistent about my life, it's inconsistency.
Do you know that after mating, the female praying mantis eats the male's head off? Just leaving him there to die. Don't trust any woman. I mean, at first. You bring your feelings first, and sure enough you'll get your head bitten off. I threw away the idea of being in love a long time ago. In spite of people blaming anyone else for what bad they experienced, you of all people should know, that you should take a second look in the nearest mirror and think. What made them did what they did. Were you the reason they did what they did? Did they got back at you from something you did? My point is: blame yourself.
The white flag in your house turns into yellow.
The girl or her idea that you should follow.
When you see me, don't expect me to say hello,
I'm not that kind of fellow.
As soon as I get down from this building, life of the people in this list are never gonna be the same again, for better or worse. They will say that this was none of my business. Actually, that is my business. How, you ask? That is none of your business.
Do you know that after mating, the female praying mantis eats the male's head off? Just leaving him there to die. Don't trust any woman. I mean, at first. You bring your feelings first, and sure enough you'll get your head bitten off. I threw away the idea of being in love a long time ago. In spite of people blaming anyone else for what bad they experienced, you of all people should know, that you should take a second look in the nearest mirror and think. What made them did what they did. Were you the reason they did what they did? Did they got back at you from something you did? My point is: blame yourself.
The white flag in your house turns into yellow.
The girl or her idea that you should follow.
When you see me, don't expect me to say hello,
I'm not that kind of fellow.
As soon as I get down from this building, life of the people in this list are never gonna be the same again, for better or worse. They will say that this was none of my business. Actually, that is my business. How, you ask? That is none of your business.