I'm not the greediest, I just do lots of greedy sh**
Expedience is what every one of my reasons is
I think primitively, but I got some vision in me of a space nature like I'm Bob & Prometheus
"Life is so devious" sums up my thesis in short
But nothing that I reach is ignored
Got a need to explore VHS tapes in stores
They remind me of the best days before life turned to what it is now
Cause I really don't give a sh** now
The world keeps turning, but I don't get how
Things remain the same even as the clock ticks down
The clicks found seconds I'd have had to dig out of minutes
I regret em with a grimace
Even those that weren't actions, only ones that I'd witnessed
I regret sights, close to as heavy as regret might weigh if it had physical form
Caught in a mystical storm of rain clouds that'll cry for an answer from me
With no answer to give from within the land of money
Only questions. Hope these lessons equate to the opposite of the loneliest trek in forever
I'm a gastropod often nodding off in the concept that less isn't better
My respect lives in pressure. I've been testing if whether I'm invested in never or not would make a difference
I've insisted that I am not insistent, addicted to any escape within whichever more submissive positions resistant to my shell. I fall seven layers deeper to the center