pigs rule the world

journal eight
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shit happens.people die. its inevitable plus no one ever [really] cares. my best friends mother died from leukemia she cried and wanted me for support but like i said shit happens she cried and cried at the funeral but i looked on into the skyline. the autumn's lurid trees coming down onto us the leaves of many years fell onto the ground around us. musicians played with gloved hands in black from heads to toes. i stood a drift from the crowd weeping not one tear. of course i made my respects to the dead but not an ounce of sympathy was found. i wore my black lace dress black lace tights with tree like limbs to go around my legs black mary jane heels that dug into the ground i wore a black petticoat jacket to make sure i was warm with happy less sorrows. of course as the music played the people weeped i left walking endlessly showing not one emotion. i moved away slowly as if i wanted to say something but i couldn't. autumn was always the best time to die. its cold out i can see my breathe in the air. death doesn't scare me as i am no longer scared to live either. when one remembers its easy to live you learn death is nothing but a matter of words on the air with tense tongues. this was my first and last visit for comfort. i had focused eyes on the horizon as i left through the unkempt gates of more black paint. the path i followed out was one i saw in a movie once when theres a nostalgic feel when the leaves continue to fall off the ones on the ground make wonderful scenery when they see their old lives in front of them and their new one behind them. just know theres only you and one guy who knows what your thoughts are. you the devil and i.