Life

Do not go gentle into that good night


Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

~Dylan Thomas (1914-1953)

From The Poems of Dylan Thomas, published by New Directions.

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My time is here and I’m making it clear
Oh I love you my dear
But I’m going, I’m gone

Nothing worse than losing a friend
And the feeling you get when everybody that you love ain’t around
I really gotta get away from this town
I’m just waiting for a wave and I’ll drown

I ain’t gonna set you free
All you gonna get from me
Little bit a love and a little virtue
If I hurt you, I’ll end it all

I’m sorry, I’m trying


I’m sorry that I can’t get out of bed
I’m sorry that my heads always a mess
I’m sorry that I missed your call
For the third time in a row
I promise that I care much more than I show

Don’t get carried away, no
I’ll only let you down
Certain circumstances got me feeling low
Don’t take it personally
Talk some sense into me, I’ve been feeling senseless
Acting selfish, hate myself so fucking much, I’m out of touch
But I can see through all the lies that they’ve been selling me
Quit telling me you know they know what’s best for me
My patience being tested, see
In the parking lot of the high school that I went to
Thought I hated it, but it’s real shit when your friends leave
And you’re back home with the same dreams
On the same street
All of the things that I’ve taken for granted is now
Everything that I wish hadn’t ended
All that I hated is now what I miss
Ain’t that a bitch

I’m sorry that I can’t get out of bed
I’m sorry that my heads always a mess
I’m sorry that I missed your call
For the third time in a row
I promise that I care much more than I show

Reason #64


Because there is so much we’ve yet to do. Everything, in fact.  I still want to bring you chocolate milk and cheese toasties when you’re hungry late at night. I still want to go out and watch movies with you.  I still want to give you crappy massages.  I still want to listen to and play music with you.  I still want to laugh with you and have inside jokes with you that nobody else understands.  I want to cook with you.  I want to watch you sleeping when it’s the dead of night and I can’t.  I want to go for walks with you and hold hands and show you all the places I like to walk.  I want to see the snow with you.  I still want to be the person you trust and tell everything to, whether it’s serious or silly.  I still want to watch anime with you even though I don’t really like it but because I know you do.  I still want to go on dates with you.  I still want to be your best friend too.  I want to learn from and about you, every day.  I believe we can do these things.  I have to.  I know that you want them too.