it's all just a bunch of lies we told ourselves to ease the pain of reality that once felt like something good and beautiful and of course the real part of it was pretty damn good too not to mention those finer moments in life those very rare glimmers of hope that make everything a little brighter a little more hopeful they kinda make it all worth it in the end maybe if we just closed our eyes and went back to all those times where things just seemed perfect maybe if we closed them a little more tighter we could relive those worthy seconds again and if only we could paint the stills of the better moments of our lives maybe our entire lives could form a gallery and the best creations would be on the top floor maybe to represent the height of our lives the highest of nirvanas reached within our nothing but human existence wouldn't that be great to keep the good from the bad and maybe even just keep all the good and recycle the bad no mixing in between no tainting the purity of it all and just like that we can keep our linens white and it'd be like living in a snow globe a perfect world untouched and captured in its own glass bubble you'd have to slam it against something really hard to get into this world of nothing-short-of-amazing wouldn't that be nice? but like i said it's all just a bunch of lies.
forget what they say.
