actuality.log


Wednesday, September the 10th, 2003

I don’t know what it is
That makes me feel alive
I don’t know how to wake
The things that sleep inside
I only wanna see the light
That shines behind your eyes

I hope that I can say
The things I wish I’d said
To sing my soul to sleep
And take me back to bed
You want to be alone
When we could be alive instead

This is a printer-friendly version of the journal entry “It’s late, I’m awake and” from actuality.log. Visit http://emphaticallystatic.org/earlier/its-late-im-awake-and/ to read the original entry and follow any responses to it.

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