ghosts...

Idealism sucks...there's nothing ideal about it...we dream...we dream about dreaming...and we are so happy just dreaming we don't bother to act it out....we have our perfect situations...we love to think that those perfect situations have their imperfections but we love it more for it...we love to fool ourselves...we love to think that we were never in love...we were just fooling around...there's a reason why its called fooling around, 'cos it makes a fool out of you...sure you laugh...sure you runaway....of course you're scared...but you never think that this was the dream...you run 'cos it's what ur feet are used to...because for you its better than breathing...better than getting high on a few puffs of god knows what they do...the high is in the pain of knowing that you will cause pain...not realizing it takes two to tango two to bleed...you think you're ahead of the game when everyone else behind you are just ghosts...and so many...you're little collectibles...you're memorabilia of life as it were...you're still running...to idealism...away from a dark house...away from cutting words...away from angry eyes...away from claws...not realizing there was another road...one with loving hand and laughing eyes and sunshine...but you can't chose...there IS no choice...the intertwined mangled idealism of life...I hate idealism...idealism sucks...