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Monday, Jul. 25, 2005 - 01:35 a.m.
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"There are things in this world that make me cry;"
"There are things in my head I dare not touch;"
"There are reasons why I don’t;"
"There are too many questions;"
"There are not enough answers;"
"There are never enough answers;"
"These are just words;"
"They
are here for you..."
Newest 5 Entries:
My Suicide... (Updated) - Sunday, Jun. 17, 2007
I'm Sorry... - Sunday, Apr. 22, 2007
I Give Up... - Monday, Nov. 27, 2006
Questioning My Existence... - Monday, Nov. 20, 2006
Sometimes... - Monday, Nov. 13, 2006
QUOTE FOR THE DAY:
"Burnout
is nature's way of telling you, you've been going through the motions your soul
has departed; you're a zombie, a member of the living dead, a sleepwalker. False
optimism is like administrating stimulants to an exhausted nervous system." *************************************************************** All over this city and planet there are the living dead. The souls that roam this planet and though they breathe, they do not live. The souls that do not feel anything but trapped in the sick routines that they call life and the distant hopes of glory. We are surrounded by people who don't exercise their emotions, rather, they drown them out in a glass of bitterness and greed. We are surrounded by people who work their lives away for nothing but the money they hope to earn and accomplish nothing all of the while. These people are the living dead, their hearts beat but they do not feel. The living dead surround us, like zombie sheep they roam the planet doing their meagre tasks, collecting their pay and changing nothing all the while. When do people stop craving emotion and start putting them aside? When do feelings become an obstacle to success? When does the very essence of life become its worst enemy? When do people sacrifice themselves to make ends meet? We kill ourselves, or rather, we have to kill ourselves so we can have food to eat and shelter to guard us. We kill ourselves so our bodies may survive though our soul has long since been slain. We live in a world of
"Yes, sirs" and
"No, sirs" a world where respect is not earned, but bought and forced. I would rather die than sell my soul. I would rather starve like a dog and be beaten like a insolent child than give away what is at the very core of my being. Perhaps,
over time, my will shall fade, perhaps it won't. But I have pride in who I am and the respect I give will be earned. I just wish others could do the same. It's a cruel world that we live in. It's one where we have to sell out just to survive. I only hope that I do not have to follow suit and that I will not become one of the living dead.
THE LIVING DEAD
By: Raven
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