I can't think. I can't think. I can't think.
I can't think what I want.
I don't feel half as complete without something. Why am I still always thinking about this? Why? 'Cause I can't get it off of my mind. Ten months, weeks upon weeks, days upon days of thinking about the same thing. The same fantasy. The same unstable flow of annoying hope and even more annoying narcissism.
So, then I wonder, why do I refuse to give up on all of this just yet?
Aaaand... here comes the hope again.
-Sigh-.