March 24, 2011
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nothing else matters by metallicaso much of what i do everyday is for other people
other thoughts
other ideasand i give
i give till it hurts
till it’s over
till it’s wiped outbut tonight
is just too much
and i am aloneand nothing ever changes that feeling
of giving
and giving
and eventually being so tapped outthat nothing
really matters
not evenyour own words.
Comments (11)
God I’m feeling like that right now so much. Giving to silent stone walls and nothing seems to bounce back. Not even a tremor of recognition. I get this poem in so many levels. Totally drained.
@awoolham - isn’t it the worse feeling. sigh. i don’t even know what to do with myself. except be sad.
Your words still matter to me, if that’s any consolation.
@thomas_michael - I get sad and then mad at the person and then at myself. It’s not good. Hope things will get better for you soon.
such a lovely poem but a sha poo poo feeling. this feeling goes poorly with the booze in the mug but not the comforting thought of a liquored hug. perhaps soon you’ll have ye a nap to find the smile soon enough soon enough…or after a while. I’m joking but then again not that if you can find it in your heart let grab a crate of eggs and pray the get away car always starts alley eggin for no other reason than nail that pecker praying for his stolen russian relief from another’s daughter-@20 and maybe you’ll holler or groan.
@awoolham - hmmmm….sounds strangely familair. lol. it’s cyclical but it’s tough not to be mad at yourself for your own shortcomings or rather for always letting people take until your completely tapped. either way, it sucks. take care.
Yes, i know that feeling. I am struggling to transition away from this. Slow progress, so far.
@I_once_was - lol. you sir are too funny for words. i’ve grown accustom to deciphering your coded messages of humor and sensibility. but more to the point—a good egging is what you suggest. i like it. i like it alot. i would be good therapy.
@thomas_michael - the after snack- real good now….well not for you….take a a little whomp of lard into a pan. take a quick moment to collect the cheese and CORN tortillas. now the lard melts like white butter and bubbles slightly but when it begins to shimmer….it is possible for me to tell corn liquor past pain….iyou start seeing more than 2… now this next part goes quick… get a spatula… put a big whomp of cheese on the tortillia a little moutain…. put on spatulah as well that lard is coookin’ and it’s best to be a wuss without burnt hand…. place in pan and remove spatulah but as you do so- roll bot sides back over. you have a triangle log for a moment. no slug half a beer. or suitable fluid- probably water if you had the waters of life….flip over and drink over half of beer remove from pan and onto paper towel atop paper or over plate. blow on it 3 times this is an enchilada but one from the god ho’ll fight for your hangover relief.
you may call it god’s enchilada. drunkards salvation….you can make an army of the as if you cook enough them too long they cooould stand up…..but they aren’t slim shady’s
every single momentary tick of your being is given for someone else. i cant believe how much i understand that feeling…