Louis Cole
Quality Over Opinion
Right in the middle
Happiness and sadness balanced like a peak and valley of a sine wave
Existing forever like an ocean wave
Doing its job without giving a shit about my short timeline
Impossible
But the glass ceiling of infinity will never stop me
It never has
Dripping golden blood from important arteries as I smash through once again
Screaming, "More love, less hate"
The words rattling my boney ribcage
At that moment, I realize I'm actually in my apartment wearing yеsterday's clothes
Trying to make my kеyboard and mouse sing like the voices in my head
On an ergonomic rolling throne
A million mouse clicks away
A trillion mouse clicks away
From the light at the end of a twisted and incredible tunnel
A journey with no true end and a beginning too far away to remember
Never waiting at the inspiration train stations
Walking the rusty tracks for unimaginable miles
Past millions of filtered mediocre ideas
And trillions of dead notes
I would like to use every shred of spirit I was given in this life
And every other
Too hard on myself, too proud
Caring too much, not choosing
Sometimes hating, always loving
Quality over opinion every time
Fads die, realness stays forever in the universe
Becoming the warm microwave background
Hugging the hot pocket of existence
Frozen in the center
Colder than the stares of lost soul judgement
Somehow penetrating through the deepest depths of what matters
Into a shallow oasis of poserosity
I see them sketching things too big to see with their eyes
Like being in the middle of a nebula you wouldn't know surrounds you
Birthing bright beautiful stars from parts of itself
Surrounding us
The dark sky gets brighter little by little and I spend my littlest moments
Trying to radiate to the point of combustion
Inferno becoming the room temperature
A true star
In these moments, I realize I'm actually just an asteroid-riding cum bubble that hit the right temperature rock
Pure survival, but never satisfied with evolution's natural pace
Pushing my limbs through cell walls and amphibious skin
My path is up to me, our path is up to us
But we need each other
Tell your friends, these words are for you
[Instrumental Break]
The desperate calls for attention become dying white noise
Listening for my own voice among the over-saturated airwaves
Looking for my own shadow under the eclipse of an incoming illuminati dildo
Waiting for the ambulance of authenticity
Watching us measure worlds with a ruler
Guess after guess after guess after guess
But at the end
Every single one of us needs something called "the real thing"
And at the end
Every single one of us lives and dies on a piece of land called "my own terms"
Another sunrise in my small room
Through my walls, hear the distant booms
Another alarm set by my bed
Begins another big bang in my head
Too hard on myself, too proud
Caring too much, not choosing
Sometimes hating, always loving
Too hard on myself, too proud
Caring too much, not choosing
Sometimes hating, always loving
Sometimes hating, always loving
Sometimes hating, always loving
Sometimes hating, always loving
Sometimes hating, always loving
Sometimes hating, always loving
Sometimes hating, always loving