Ok now this is something really cool that I found on the internet and this fully describes...well...many things...
You try to see yourself, but yourself keeps slipping away. And you try to see, to grope at the truth, but you just keep on slipping away. At arms length. It’s palpable, but no. It’s tangible, but no. The only thing touchable, is the one nightstand underneath your fingers.
My head spins.
You spin. They spin. Even the speakers do.
Kinda drifting into the abstract.
You make out ho.
You without a focus.
Without care. Or concern.
And it doesn’t really matter anymore.
Decadence.
There is no me. No fucking me. There is no fucking you either. Only me. Not even. No. Not even, nor balanced. You know why. But why care? Let it float.
Borderline surfacing. Not really.
Without focus. Without care. Without coherence. Without consistence.
Wakeless. Senseless. Forbidden thoughts. Of you. Progress. It’s not on the outside anymore. Gone deep. Gone low.
Guilt.
Repentance?
No time for that.
Bla-
-bber.
Denial.
You’re not supposed to. You’re not supposed to!
Happens anyway.
Dose.
Where are you? Lost in the milky mist that’s floating inside your head along with the rest of your disposable coherence.
It comes up like a wave, like a shiver, like a gradual stinging…
Next thing you know, there are tears rolling down your cheeks. You almost wish your whole head would roll down your cheek and fall off.
Angst driven.
And so lonely.
Your choice. Really for the best?
And deep in the night you drive through the city lights. Like guiding beacons to the neon signs of the places you’ll find temporary relief. And that’s what’s it about no? Temporary relief, temporary escape, temporary oblivion. It doesn’t last and leaves you begging for the next fix. For the next sunset, for the next big party. Oh wait, correction. For the next big _temporary_ party. Well, but what is forever nowadays? Enjoy while you’re young, enjoy while you can, while you’re able. Don’t waste any chance. You never know which day’ll be your last. Like the one you’ll slice open your wrists in vain for example. You don’t mourn. You’re a fatalist, cynical. Life moves on, you’re still alive, don’t forget. Don’t forget. Don’t forget.
I don’t.
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