My soul is music. It's bi polar. It's colorful, yet monochrome. It's a lava lamp, and its the earth. It's light and dark. It's morbid and girly. My soul is repeating itself. It implodes constantly, it;s light as a feather, and dangerous as a maniac on a unicycle with a duck and a yoyo. It's swirling into the abyss. It's off in space, looking down on the planets. It's childlike, it's mature, and it can't make up it's mind. Its the same, and the opposite. Its like a seal drank some soda and went to hang with the toucans. It doesn't make sense. But it does when it needs to. It's shy and flirtatious, it's secretly motherly, and a little greedy. It feels as though it owes a debt to the world, and it wants to be left alone. It's J pop and Irish. It's a classic. It's the old times, and a little new. It wants to be noticed, but doesn't know how. This is my soul.
 rushia chan · Mon Aug 16, 2010 @ 03:37am · 0 Comments |
18, gay, and counting.