My Inspiration Box

My Inspiration Box

 Okay, so here’s the spot in my blog where I’m going to post a variety of inspiration stuff. Please feel free to comment on songs, artists, or whatever inspires you when you’re in the depression zone or insanely happy or someplace in between! 

“Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me” By The Smiths

Last night I dreamt
That somebody loved me
No hope – but no harm
Just another false alarm
Last night I felt
Real arms around me
No hope – no harm
Just another false alarm
So, tell me how long
Before the last one?
And tell me how long
Before the right one?
This story is old – I KNOW
But it goes on
This story is old – I KNOW
But it goes on

“A word to the wise ain’t necessary – it’s the stupid ones that need the advice.” –Bill Cosby <Bored? Visit Cracked for funny news stories!


^Actual Photo I Took!
“Tiny Glowing Screens, Part 2” by WATSKY
There’s 7 billion 46 million people on the planet
And most of us have the audacity to think we matter
Hey, you hear the one about the comedian who croaked?
Someone stabbed him in the heart, just a little poke
But he keeled over ‘cause he went into battle wearing chain mail made of jokes
Hey, you hear the one about the screenwriter who passed away?
He was giving elevator pitches and the elevator got stuck halfway
He ended up eating smushed sandwiches they pushed through a crack in the door
And repeating the same crappy screenplay idea about talking dogs ’til his last day
Hey, you hear the one about the fisherman who passed?
He didn’t jump off that ledge
He just stepped out into the air and pulled the ground up towards him really fast
Like he was pitching a line and went fishing for concrete
The earth is a drum and he’s hitting it on beat
The reason there’s smog in Los Angeles is ‘cause if we could see the stars
If we could see the context of the universe in which we exist
And we could see how small each one of us is
Against the vastness of what we don’t know
No one would ever audition for a McDonalds commercial again
And then where would we be?
No frozen dinners and no TV
And is that a world we want to text in?
Either someone just microwaved popcorn
Or I hear the sound of a thousand people pulling their heads out of their asses in rapid succession
The people are hunched over in Boston
They’re starting app stores and screen printing companies in San Francisco
They’re grinning in Los Angeles like they’ve got fishhooks in the corners of their mouth
But don’t paint me like the good guy ‘cause every time I write
I get to choose the angle that you view me and select the nicest light
You wouldn’t respect me if you heard the typewriter chatter tap tap
Tapping through my mind at night
The same stupid tape loop of old sitcom dialogue
And tattered memories of a girl I got to grind on in high school
Filed carefully on rice paper
My heart is a colored pencil
But my brain is an eraser
I don’t want a real girl, I want to trace her from a catalogue
Truth be told I’m unlikely to hold you down
Cause my soul is a crowded subway train
And people keep deciding to get on the next one that rolls through town
I’m joining a false movement in San Francisco
I’m frowning and hunched over in Boston
I’m smiling in Los Angeles like I’ve got fishhooks in the corners of my mouth
And I’m celebrating on weekends
Because there are 7 billion 47 million people on the planet
And I have the audacity to think I matter
I know it’s a lie but I prefer it to the alternative
Because I’ve got a tourniquet tied at my elbow / I’ve got
A blunt wrap filled with compliments and I’m burnin it
You say to go to sleep but I been bouncing off my bedroom walls since I was hecka small
We’re every age at once and tucked inside ourselves like Russian nesting dolls
My mother is an 8 year old girl
My grandson is a 74 year old retiree whose kidneys just failed
And that’s the glue between me and you
That’s the screws and nails
We live in a house made of each other
And if that sounds strange that’s because it is
Someone please freeze time so I can run around turning everyone’s pockets inside out
And remember, you didn’t see shit <– Real talk about depression from a comic

“Restless Heart Syndrome” by Green Day

I’ve got a really bad disease
It’s got me begging on my hands and knees
So, take me to emergency
Cause something seems to be missing
Somebody take the pain away
It’s like an ulcer bleeding in my brain
So send me to the pharmacy so I can lose my memoryI’m elated, medicated
Lord knows I tried to find a way to run awayI think they found another cure
For broken hearts and feeling insecure
You’d be surprised what I endure
What makes you feel so self-assuredI need to find a place to hide
You never know what could be waiting outside
The accidents that you could find
It’s like some kind of suicideSo what ails you, is what impales you
I feel like I’ve been crucified to be satisfiedI’m a victim of my symptom
I am my own worst enemy
You’re a victim of your symptom
You are your own worst enemy
Know your enemyI’m elated, medicated
I am my own worst enemy
So what ails you is what impales you
You are your own worst enemy
You’re a victim of the system

“There are things known, and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors.” – Jim Moorison

The preacher said, you know you always have the Lord by your side. And I was so pleased to be informed of this that I ran twenty red-lights in his name. – The Rolling Stones, Far Away Eyes

“Quelqu’un m’a dit” by Carla Bruni – English translation

I’m told that our lives aren’t worth very much
They pass in an instant like fading roses
I’m told that coats are made from our sorrows
However, someone told me…

That you still love me
Someone has told me, that you still love me
Could it be possible?

I’m told that destiny mocks us well and good
That it gives us nothing and yet promises all
It looks as though happiness is at hand
So we reach out and find ourselves going mad
However, someone told me…

That you still love me
Someone has told me, that you still love me
Could it be possible?

But who is it that told me you still love me?
I don’t remember any more, it’s late at night
I still hear the voice, but I no longer see the features
“He loves you, it’s secret, don’t tell him I told you”
You see, someone told me….

That you still love me, I was truthfully told…
That you still love me, but could it be possible?

^Scene from The Perks of Being A Wallflower, “The Poem”

Good decisions come from experience and experience comes from bad decisions. -Unknown


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