westid

last seen fading into the dark. unseen hiding in plain sight during the stone cold sober light of day. bringing back the pain, got me thinking frivolously about it again. shoot me while i fly through the air, and feel my blood come down on you like boiling hot body temperature rain. no sense and no feeling, the boy’s gone insane

i’m not painting myself blue anymore like a target surround me with whatever makes you all red. three stripes and you’re out, but i’m not the one whose dead. wouldn’t you fucking love it if that was me instead. that’s not a real question, i’ve crawled inside your head

one thing i can rely on is that no one will come knocking on my door. nobody does that anymore. the only reason they did that anyway is because all that stuff still worked that you did to me before. now i’m left to chance, the result of whom you can just ignore. there’s no ceiling now because he’s hit the floor. a fallacy; he’s never coming back from that, are you sure?

in case you wanted to know, black and white is symbolic, to show that both good and evil live inside me. this is true of anyone, however good they make themselves out to be. i can’t be red or blue, that’s what other people make me see. if i’m one or the other of those, my mind is closed and i will never be free

maybe i won’t anyway, i’m the one who was left here. this is the way i become, now i don’t live in fear – but i do live alone. that’s my penance, but i will never atone. absolution is but a call away, you can find me if you really want to, i might have disappeared off your radar but i still have a phone. you pin me up like some sort of first world pariah, but i’m still breathing, and i’m not leaving; do you really want to keep fighting against me? it’s not getting you far, and i’m not even hitting back. join me … i could be the most powerful ally you have ever known. through so many waves of you i’ve existed sovereign, and i didn’t need you to fail so that i could succeed; all that success did it all on my own

if it makes you feel better that’s no victory. whatever version of you is doing the rounds right now, i’m living a different story. not going to be taken alive or go down quietly. you won’t see me crash and burn from grace in some great blaze of glory. still here and i will survive, not started on the epitaph or the obituary just yet – that’s not how i’m going to make history

fuck what the judge said, and whatever it is you like to believe. it’s not even like the truth mattered, in fact it makes some of you seethe. it’s all about the amount of hatred that some people always wanted to fire my way – it’s pointless because you can rest assured, there isn’t one hint of your spiteful situation that’s ever gonna register, that i will receive. and even if you did shit some words out of your horrible fucking face, you’re never going to bring me down to your level – because i’m ^[westid] and i’m not the same person you think you’re up against, because things are different now… for one, i believe.

no surrender. no white flag. i don’t fly the black and white ensign; i wear it. because the one thing that could remake the world for me, is never going to come to be. place the blame wherever you like, i’m notorious. victory will come, i’m certain. it will be glorious