am I hollow?
or filled with secrets?
secrets I've only ever dreamed of,
or were they dreams.

am I ever awake

in this life of uncertainty,
it's so hard to trust
so hard to let go
so inconvenient to break down
so embarrassing to feel anything
and i make myself sick with my phony social niceties
"thank YOU for your time!"
"I've got some GREAT news!"
"I TOtally understand sir!"
"fuck you and fuck your whining, i'm goin' for a smoke"
well, that's what i'd like to say
as i whine to myself in my little net-brain

to what point do i rant
to what end will this take?
i could tell you something
but it would be admittedly fake

I rant just to vent
and to tell where i went
and so when i go away
you'll still know what i'd say