I am so tired of being the "me" generation;
the “technology obsessed” generation;
the under pressure, under stress,
I’m tired of being under fire,
under cuts and undercuts,
under the thumbs of the generations before us;
under-appreciated and overwhelmed and
desensitized to a living hell,
sinking ourselves into shells and wishing wells,
slowly blinking out the light that’s too bright
for our darkness.
So I’m sending out a call for help;
S.O.S, please, someone, anyone:
we’re in distress.
We’re drowning in our broken dreams and memories
of what once was, what
could have been
if the life boats of hope had just stayed afloat and carried us,
if not to the shore,
if not to the shallows,
then at least within swimming distance
of somewhere we wouldn’t feel so goddamn
Somewhere we could say we’re fine without having to lie;
where the light eats the dark that eats our hearts,
and we can breathe without inhaling all of the sins they used to bury
if you can call what we do
my “s.o.s” is a “fuck you” too // s.n.a
So, I’ve been reading a lot of @inkskinned, (I’m literally working my way through her whole blog) and got inspired to actually write and post something. I may or may not have copied her style; totally not meaning to, I’m just sort of a writing chameleon that takes bits and pieces from my most recent influences and she’s phenomenal.
also I have no idea have to format line breaks into quotes so forgive me if it looks weird
You were running the
nice smelling shampoo through your hair, rinsing and pouring out the
conditioner in your hand now “switching tracks”.
“…You may hate me but
it ain’t no lie, BABY BYE BYE BYE!” you finished loudly, trying to resist the
over aggressive dance moves, but you immediately started mid-way into another
“TELL ME WHY! Ain’t nothing but a heartache. TELL ME WHY! Ain’t nothing
but a mistake. Tell me why. I never wanna hear you say. I. WANT. IT. THAT.
WAY!” and you just kept on going, using anything you can jamming out to the
good old tunes.
“S.O.S. please someone
help me, it’s not healthy… for me to feel this way. Y.O.U. are you, making this
hard. You got me tossin and turnin and can’t sleep at night”
“Hey HEY! You YOU! I
don’t like your girlFRIEND! No WAY. No WAY! I THINK YOU NEED A NEW ONE! Hey
HEY! You YOU! I COULD BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!”
“DON’T WANT TO BE AN
AMERICAN IDIOT!” adding a little bit of the air guitar,“DON’T WANNA A NATION
UNDER THE NEW MANIA!”
Finally you were done
your shower getting out, drying yourself off and wrapping the towel around you, still singing somewhat more
quietly this time,
“STOP! Wait a minute. Fill my cup PUT SOME LIQUOR IN IT!”
And then you opened
the door- seeing that smiling face, as he was laid out on the bed. Just smiling, and it was clear to what he had heard.
“OH MY- HOW MUCH DID
YOU HEAR?!” you immediately asked.
“Oh… somewhere between
‘Pump it’ from the Black Eyed Peas and “Say my name’ from Destiny’s Child.” “YOU HEARD ALL OF
IT?!” you said realizing those were the first songs you started singing. “Yep.” He smiled,
getting up, coming closer to you, “From now on. I think I should be the only
singer in the house babe.” You just playfully punched
him in the arm causing him to laugh.
This got me jamming
again. This was INSANELY fun to write lol
He;d never been out in snow. He’d haf some fun jumping in it, watching it all puff up and flurry about. Transforming he revved his engine then sped about, slamming and turning to skid and through as much snow up as possible. More and more snow came down though and soon enough he felt the cold.
Deciding it time to go in he figured one last time wouldn’t hurt.
Throwing snow up he laughed then tried to back up to head back to base. But he couldn’t attempting to go forward he realized his sports car form was no match for the feet upon feet of snow piling up. Half way up his doors now. He just wouldn’t be able to drive.
Transform. ….He- he couldn’t! He was frozen!
Panicing he tried to wiggle about. Nothing! His open side was quickly rebuilding.
::S.O.S. I’M STUCK, SOMEONE PLEASE, HELP! S.O.S::
He sent that out over every free com he could. Over and over until he had to cut power. Shortening the message he had ::S.O.S:: Play constantly. Idling he turned his heaters up. Warm, he needed to keep warm.