Why tell the truth when it's easier to lie?

I have died a few deaths, but this one was physically close. Somehow I managed to trick my bad luck and wasn't beaten to a bloody mash of myself. Not sure how I'll overrun time and coincidence in the nights yet to come though.

People don't like me any more.
And all I write is..

paragraph of Dirt:

Years passed and I became one of “them”. I couldn’t see any more. I stopped noticing things outside my important world and would only take in as much as necessary. Dead pigeons didn’t cause shock or curiosity any more. Red cars didn’t scare me. As I became one with the city, my thoughts turned into a mass of dirt and I was painted gray.

paragraph of Mr Lonely:

Martin Lonely was a lonely man. He was short and grumpy, brown-eyed and miserable, boyish and protective. He didn’t make friends easily. Truth to be told, he didn’t make friends at all.

paragraph of Idiots and food:

Now leaving out the people who fainted, the bruises and other minor injuries, the two heart attacks and the guy, who somehow managed to lose one eye, it was a happy and successful day between the washed out blue walls of the bland supermarket. People didn’t fight together, but they did fight for one cause and it was the best cause they could’ve ever fought for- sugar. Besides, it was on discount.


Brakes and Bright Eyes will tell you about me.

"I'm gonna tell you why it is that I drink my days away
it's cause the beer helps the cigarettes go down
and I'm gonna tell you why it is that I cry my nights away
it's cause the tears help the memories come out"

"I spent a week drinking the sunlight of Winnetka, California
Where they understand the weight of human hearts
You see, sorrow gets too heavy and joy it tends to hold you
With the fear that it eventually departs
And the truth is I've been dreaming of some tired tranquil place
Where the weather won't get trapped inside my bones
And if all the years of searching find one sympathetic face
Then it's there I will plant these seeds and make my home
I spent a day dreaming of dying in Mesa, Arizona
Where all the green of life had turned to ash
And I felt I was on fire, with the things I could have told you
I guess I just assumed that you eventually would ask
And I wouldn't have to bring up my so badly broken heart
And all those months I just wanted to sleep
And though spring, it did come slowly, I guess it did it's part
My heart has thawed and continues to beat
I visited my brother on the outskirts of Olympia
Where the forest and the water become one
And we talked about our childhood, like a dream we were convinced of
That perfect peaceful street where we came from
And I know he heard me strumming all those sad and simple chords
As I sat inside my room so long ago
And it hurts that he's still shaking from those secrets that were told
By a car closed up too tight and a heart turned cold
And I went to San Diego, the birthplace of the summer
And watched the ocean dance under the moon
And there was a girl I knew there, one more potential lover
I guess that something's got to happen soon
Because I know I can't keep living in this dead or dying dream
And as I walked along the beach and drank with her
I thought about my true love, the one I really need
With eyes that burn so bright, they make me pure
They make me pure
They make me pure
I long to be with you "




What happened to the fields of gold?