So what if it didn't really exist? Does any of this really exist? How do you know? How can you be sure? You say, you feel so alive but don't you just feel less dead? You'll never get a answer from me. I ask the questions, don't try and take my place.
I'm fine where I am.. No i'm not. But does anybody feel fine? In total harmony on every level? Don't give me bullshit.
I hate the way I fucking love them...
Evil little creatures of the dephts of my mind.
Without them what would I be? Emptyness... No maybe not. Not quite that. Playing with words is my game.. Details, details, details... That only me can understand.
In fact I don't understand everything. Thats just... impossible?
Questions, questions, questions spin round in my head... Mum says it's normal I'm young, curious, loud and for fuck sake mum get a grip of yourself!
I needed you, then... I did without. I now know that I can sort this out on my own. They're eating me alive and i'm letting them do it. For the only reason I can come up with is that this is my excuse for fucking-up.
This is pittyful... It feels good letting this seep out... But where is it seeping from?
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