rock bottom
You know you’ve hit rock bottom when you feel as if you lost everything, and something is tearing you apart piece by piece because it wants more. Speaking to me is more or less useless, but if I get a chance to look back on this one day hopefully there will be enough of me to smile and say I was stupid.
Fear of the uncertain is what damages the interior. But what happens when there’s nothing left?
What is that keeps picking at my remains?
I really can’t remember the last time I had a real smile... or a good laugh. Is that bad?
I feel as if I don’t know myself anymore, but I also feel as if I could write a poetic masterpiece with such a tragic ending not even the most bold of heart could bring themselves to read it. What is it that compels me to write such nonsense? What is fueling this fire? What am I burning off of? Constant never ending exhaustion and pain need something. But what is it? Love? Hate? Envy? Maybe it’s the longing to feel something real. Something that isn’t fake. For once I would like to meet someone and greet them with a smile. Rather than this false identity I’ve been tricked into thinking I am. Maybe this is just another rant, but why am I taking the time to write it down? Maybe it’s a way to vent? Or maybe it’s the opening chapter in this soon to be an all time bestselling book? Or will I find this to be a nuisance and turn it into a short story, or even a paraphrased article. Such a twisted fate, it is almost as if someone broke off a needle in my skin. And this itch is making me wonder, maybe that is the real longing I have, the craving for touch, the need to feel. Let’s try and lay down. Have a dream to make believe. Cause hey, it’s not so bad. But who am I kidding? I can fool everyone but myself. Fool everyone but myself. Fool everyone but myself. Why can’t I get it out of my head? Life should be good, life isn’t hard, and life is life. It’s not easy, nothing ever is. This is a constant fight that I will not win. I would just like to find the route of this problem, and find a course to fix it. ".......a ragged doll, a broken frame, the flame inside is driving me insane...."
Live love burn die
It’s so simple to
Fool everyone but yourself
Fear of the uncertain is what damages the interior. But what happens when there’s nothing left?
What is that keeps picking at my remains?
I really can’t remember the last time I had a real smile... or a good laugh. Is that bad?
I feel as if I don’t know myself anymore, but I also feel as if I could write a poetic masterpiece with such a tragic ending not even the most bold of heart could bring themselves to read it. What is it that compels me to write such nonsense? What is fueling this fire? What am I burning off of? Constant never ending exhaustion and pain need something. But what is it? Love? Hate? Envy? Maybe it’s the longing to feel something real. Something that isn’t fake. For once I would like to meet someone and greet them with a smile. Rather than this false identity I’ve been tricked into thinking I am. Maybe this is just another rant, but why am I taking the time to write it down? Maybe it’s a way to vent? Or maybe it’s the opening chapter in this soon to be an all time bestselling book? Or will I find this to be a nuisance and turn it into a short story, or even a paraphrased article. Such a twisted fate, it is almost as if someone broke off a needle in my skin. And this itch is making me wonder, maybe that is the real longing I have, the craving for touch, the need to feel. Let’s try and lay down. Have a dream to make believe. Cause hey, it’s not so bad. But who am I kidding? I can fool everyone but myself. Fool everyone but myself. Fool everyone but myself. Why can’t I get it out of my head? Life should be good, life isn’t hard, and life is life. It’s not easy, nothing ever is. This is a constant fight that I will not win. I would just like to find the route of this problem, and find a course to fix it. ".......a ragged doll, a broken frame, the flame inside is driving me insane...."
Live love burn die
It’s so simple to
Fool everyone but yourself