The "Freeola Customer Forum" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
I'm not sure how I wrote this, as I've never done anyhting like it. I wrote it a couple of weeks ago. Something in me wanted me to post it.
It’s still there. Something sticky, but it doesn’t matter what. It doesn’t matter that it’s still there, because nothing matters. As it’s always dark, that was when you threw it, out of boredom. Not loneliness anymore, those days are gone, since you’ve noticed there’s no one who can cure it. That you know. Or think you know.
You’re still staring at it. How long have you been looking? Hours? Days? It doesn’t matter. You stare at many things, but as it’s been like this for so many nights, you’ve stared at everything there is to stare at. All has been seen, millions of times. So maybe it’s time.
Time to close your eyes, and wake up from this self-absorbed and self-piteous thing you think is a life, and do something real. When you wake up, try and talk to her, and you’ll feel better. You may not get her, and she may hate you for it, but that’s something that doesn’t matter, other then your fantasies.
Enough tears, enough darkness; enough of this. Time’s running out. Go.
You’re in charge of your life, kid, not me. I’ll help and encourage you, but I can’t make it for you. That’s your job. Everyone’s job for themselves. I won’t advise or ask you anymore, but please, try.
For me.
Comments would be great.
It’s still there. Something sticky, but it doesn’t matter what. It doesn’t matter that it’s still there, because nothing matters. As it’s always dark, that was when you threw it, out of boredom. Not loneliness anymore, those days are gone, since you’ve noticed there’s no one who can cure it. That you know. Or think you know.
You’re still staring at it. How long have you been looking? Hours? Days? It doesn’t matter. You stare at many things, but as it’s been like this for so many nights, you’ve stared at everything there is to stare at. All has been seen, millions of times. So maybe it’s time.
Time to close your eyes, and wake up from this self-absorbed and self-piteous thing you think is a life, and do something real. When you wake up, try and talk to her, and you’ll feel better. You may not get her, and she may hate you for it, but that’s something that doesn’t matter, other then your fantasies.
Enough tears, enough darkness; enough of this. Time’s running out. Go.
You’re in charge of your life, kid, not me. I’ll help and encourage you, but I can’t make it for you. That’s your job. Everyone’s job for themselves. I won’t advise or ask you anymore, but please, try.
For me.
Comments would be great.
A few weeks since this was written. It's weird. I expected everything to change without me realising, yet in reality, it's the same.
Bah. I'll go listen to the Phonics....
Bah. I'll go listen to the Phonics....
allardini wrote:
> Enough tears, enough darkness; enough of this. Time’s running out.
> Go.
I love that line.
> Enough tears, enough darkness; enough of this. Time’s running out.
> Go.
I love that line.
I'm not sure how I wrote this, as I've never done anyhting like it. I wrote it a couple of weeks ago. Something in me wanted me to post it.
It’s still there. Something sticky, but it doesn’t matter what. It doesn’t matter that it’s still there, because nothing matters. As it’s always dark, that was when you threw it, out of boredom. Not loneliness anymore, those days are gone, since you’ve noticed there’s no one who can cure it. That you know. Or think you know.
You’re still staring at it. How long have you been looking? Hours? Days? It doesn’t matter. You stare at many things, but as it’s been like this for so many nights, you’ve stared at everything there is to stare at. All has been seen, millions of times. So maybe it’s time.
Time to close your eyes, and wake up from this self-absorbed and self-piteous thing you think is a life, and do something real. When you wake up, try and talk to her, and you’ll feel better. You may not get her, and she may hate you for it, but that’s something that doesn’t matter, other then your fantasies.
Enough tears, enough darkness; enough of this. Time’s running out. Go.
You’re in charge of your life, kid, not me. I’ll help and encourage you, but I can’t make it for you. That’s your job. Everyone’s job for themselves. I won’t advise or ask you anymore, but please, try.
For me.
Comments would be great.
It’s still there. Something sticky, but it doesn’t matter what. It doesn’t matter that it’s still there, because nothing matters. As it’s always dark, that was when you threw it, out of boredom. Not loneliness anymore, those days are gone, since you’ve noticed there’s no one who can cure it. That you know. Or think you know.
You’re still staring at it. How long have you been looking? Hours? Days? It doesn’t matter. You stare at many things, but as it’s been like this for so many nights, you’ve stared at everything there is to stare at. All has been seen, millions of times. So maybe it’s time.
Time to close your eyes, and wake up from this self-absorbed and self-piteous thing you think is a life, and do something real. When you wake up, try and talk to her, and you’ll feel better. You may not get her, and she may hate you for it, but that’s something that doesn’t matter, other then your fantasies.
Enough tears, enough darkness; enough of this. Time’s running out. Go.
You’re in charge of your life, kid, not me. I’ll help and encourage you, but I can’t make it for you. That’s your job. Everyone’s job for themselves. I won’t advise or ask you anymore, but please, try.
For me.
Comments would be great.