Racing the moon.

Walk. Speak. Hand out the sheets. Repeat.1

Its taking out an hour of your life, and you're in the same place, full of wandering ghosts. So many, that you dream about them, not sure whether they're real or not. They still haunt you. Pointless things like locker numbers, stupid things like displays and silly things like people.2

Are people even real? How do you know they exist? Cause a year ago you were walking down the same halls on the other end of the scale, and you saw your best friend, who you KNEW wasn't going to be here in a years time, so why did it shock you so much, why did it scare you tonight, when you truely realised you've never been more alone?3

Foot, Left, Right, stumble to the car, jump in, and speed away from the buildings that hold so many memories its funny. And memories, all they are, are feelings. And what are feelings? Chemicals. And what are chemicals? Things your brain needs to survive. So really, life is nothing more then a chemical reaction to your surroundings.4

You don't think for yourself, you don't feel anything that can't be bottled and sold on the highstreet, and you think you're great, with your society rebelling phrases..its just chemicals. Little chemicals that control your whole life. You make arguments for the existance of God based on these chemicals.5

You don't feel anything, its an illusion. Like grasping at a hand, but watching it coil into smoke. Thats what your life is, the second you try to get a grip, it'll dispear from you, trickling through your fingers with a molecular structure similar to that of water. Catch it, and it'll just run.6

Look out of the window, feel the air on your face while the music pumps into your ears, the only emotion you need, the moment surrounding you in a giant bubble where nothing is what it seems, and life is nothing more then a pointless existance based on a drug induced dream.7

In the car, go go go, and there you are, racing the moon home.8