Progressive ideas, poorly presented.
Nationally printed, locally resented.
Imprinted on your mind and body,
but no soul.

No, change the subject. Release control.

A day wasted, nothing but rest.
Well-deserved, but wasted nonetheless.

Time to climb back to my shell?
It's hot as hell,
living the lies we knew so well.

Toke up, take off, and get the fuck out of my head.

Prose follows:

Just some excerpts from my paper journal, it all came out in a bloody mess a few days ago, tangled, twisted, and barely recognizable. Much like a birth.
Rebirth?
It has been almost three years since I posted a legitimate journal.
Tempus fucking fugit.
Maybe I'll get some time to create some more work. (lies.)
And also start reacquainting myself with dA. (deception)

I told myself on multiple occasions last week that boringraindrop was dead. I feel that it is time to evolve. Not just myself, but the world. It feels as though we're coming to the point of a paradigm shift.
Evolution.
Revolution.
Revelation?

Still a raindrop, but what kind?