Thing and Purest Form

Thing and Purest Form

Sora: They try to label us, but they try in vain. We are label-less. We are not popular. But we are social. We are not outcasts, but we stand apart. We are not intelligent. We are deep. We are not silly, we are free. $$ The only thing we have in common with them are the masks we wear. But ours are darker. Ours are sliced in half. Like our wrists. Like our hearts. To us it’s simply life. To us, game is the only escape. Yet, at the same time, game over is the cowardly way, and we scorn, spit on it till our tainted saliva seeps through the false fabric.

These little things we do, like pulling the knife cross our skin and watching the blood well up over the skin and overflow, spilling. These little things we do, like writing stories of death, and drawing pain in it’s purest form. They are simply declarations. I am Sora, we are here. Here is now. Now is hell. But then I fgure, might as well make hell as pretty as heaven. Sora: They try to label us, but they try in vain. We are label-less. We are not popular. But we are social. We are not outcasts, but we stand apart. We are not intelligent. We are deep. We are not silly, we are free.

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The only thing we have in common with them are the masks we wear. But ours are darker. Ours are sliced in half. Like our wrists. Like our hearts. To us it’s simply life. To us, game is the only escape. Yet, at the same time, game over is the cowardly way, and we scorn, spit on it till our tainted saliva seeps through the false fabric. These little things we do, like pulling the knife across our skin and watching the blood well up over the skin and overflow, spilling. These little things we do, like writing stories of death, and drawing pain in it’s purest form. They are simply declarations. I am Sora, we are here. Here is now.

Now is hell. But then I figure, might s well make hell as pretty as heaven. Sora: They try to label us, but they try in vain. We are label-less. We are not popular. But we are social. We are not outcasts, but we stand apart. We are not intelligent. We are deep. We are not silly, we are free. $$ The only thing we have in common with them are the masks we wear. But ours are darker. Ours are sliced in half. Like our wrists. Like our hearts. To us it’s simply life. To us, game is the only escape. Yet, at the same time, game over is the cowardly way, and we scorn, spit on it till our tainted saliva seeps through the false fabric.

These little things we do, like pulling the knife across our skin and watching the blood well up over the skin and overflow, spilling. These little things we do, like writing stories of death, and drawing pain in it’s purest form. They are simply declarations. I am Sora, we are here. Here is now. Now is hell. But then I fgure, might as well make hell as pretty as heaven. Shelly: Beauty and perfection. That’s what you are Miss Shelly. Bet those boys back home would be doing quite a bit of howling if they saw you now. Look at all the wonderful things time has done to you (Lowers mirror)

And when I get to hollywood and become a star, theyll wonder where this goddess came from. But my past will be a mystery, because life before this moment ain’t worth telling about. After those early years, things have only gotten better. Actually, I’ll bet being born was one of the biggest letdowns of all. I spent all that time wrapped up in that little space in my mama, and for what? I pop out and look around, screaming, wondering if this was such a good idea. Wondering why someone didn’t tell me sooner what it was going to be like those first few years. ‘Cause if someone

Jesse
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