You're my sweet charade

im reading the journal ben ersing gave me for christmas two christmases ago

and i wrote this on January 4th:

"this is my everything book. my writing book. and whatevers on my mind will just flow out, competely spill out. pour out and keep going until the paper, this page, the entire journal is soggy with my deepest feelings, emotions, and tears. after all, 'this is my heart, beeling before you.'"

i like that. i forgot i wrote that, and i forgot how true it was. the jounral like, held everything i wrote in it. like a sponge? just absorbing everything i felt that day and everything i saw and went through. i like thinking of it like that.

anyway, im listening to switchfoot and packing up my bag to hit the sky and head to PA.


everything is broken
everything is bleeding
everythign is breaking down
i pledge allience to a country without borders
without politicians watching for my sky to get torn apart
we are broken
we are bitter
we're the problem
we're the politicians
waiting for our sky to get torn apart
come on and break me
entroy and aching-
where have we been aiming?
everything is fading out,
we are the faded, splitted and sedated

im singing this one like a broken piece of glass
from broken arms and broken noses in the back
is this the new year or just another desperation?
IT'LL BE A DAY LIEK THIS ONE
WHEN THE WORLD CAVES IN
theres nothing here worth saving
is no one here at all?
is tehre any net left that could break our fall?

IT'LL BE A DAY LIEK THIS ONE
WHEN THE SKY FALLS DOWN
AND THE HUNGRY AND POOR AND DESERTED AR FOUND
ARE YOU DISCONTENTED?
HAVE YOU BEEN PUSHING HARD?
have you been through and down
this broken house of cards?