Connect with the maze to my mind

'Isn’t a person just a collection of their mistakes, and also their, kind of, undoing of their mistakes? I mean, what else are you? You know, you’re always…you’re always just the reaction to the bad parts of yourself, I think. And I think that’s what is kind of like, a driving motivation behind any human being that’s…who wants to continue to grow and live life. ‘Cause they’re looking at their flaws and trying to, go beyond it. And I think that a person, you know, essentially dies when they think that they found themselves, ya know? Unless you want to admit that you, yourself, are not an individual, and are just part of a whole…movement of ideas, and thought, and culture, and humanity and, furthermore, the universe, and everything -- unless you really feel like that, and you’re walking through walls, you know, you are always trying to find yourself. And it’s usually a person who believes that they’ve found “the answer” -- found “the end” -- that there actually is a psychological end. And then what’s the point of, you know, doing anything after that?' Micheal "Eyedea" Larsen RIP

I'm always swimming Against the flow of the tide Kissing the life into something That's already died You said that you could hear bells In the traffic below I could hear sirens and car engines Fighting the snow I've been drowning forever I'll let go, I'll dive Into the river& Flow///.

All I ever wanted was to cut open my stomach Let the butterflies go back home, that's all I know That's Prozac, notes pass through me Usually, I don't show that spooky side I hide a mile high, shine so bright I might go blind Idle eyes, rifle sights, cycle go through my vital signs With a title fight, never rival side and silly motherfucker with a psycho mind I go on a high note like a Bible line, but I don't lie though So fire those, nice rifles at my temples, watch me die slow Watch 'em all agree I'm monster in the pm And marijuana Tijuana caught up in Tequila Onomatopoeia when the heart beats off-beat I don't wanna be another xerox Copy, watch me, re-animate a zombie Melancholy's always on my mind, my my mind to find My mine own guidelines that I know, they'll probably bite soon So when High Noon comes, I'll set down my two guns Tick-tock, quickdraw, instant, these holes are my own flesh Count to five, bound and tied and blindfolded They ready, they aim and now I'm so Dead