i'm not gonna lie, i rely on my beauty from time to time to get me by. it is the decent looks i was luckily born with that makes me want to expand my wit and open my eyes. funny, looks are a shallow construct, but it's what conducts getting in and out of ruts like a groove in three feet mud. however, it's a shame that i always shift the blame. convincing myself that "it's okay," "it's just your brain." the drive washes over and vanishes like ocean waves in the sky, falling down on and with me, while i'd rather be high. the numbness in me hinders my ache to learn, i yearn to earn over and over again until i land in my urn. "so you're an egotist," you might say, well, i'm not not low, i'm sprawled out on this floor made of clouds, wanting to be enshroud. doesn't mean they never help me out to float. although...i hardly ever gloat.
