Funny things can happen when you force yourself to write,
Like you can go on a tangent about Lapis and Malachite,
And generally sound crazy even if everything is alright.
Snow and booze, girls and dreams, parties and solitude,
A blog can catalog only so many things, my mind and mood,
My fears, my hopes, my highlights, my depressions, my attitude.
There’s more in between these topics, I’m sure, but they’re private.
The names, the depravity, the nitty gritty, the hereto oblivion.
But every human, surely, has those moments they’d rather not archive.
Like hacked computers, a blog can get a little weird, tell too much,
Spill a virus into the heart of the stagnant programmer,
Drain the lithium-ion of the soul, in need of hand picked cobalt.