¡warn out places!
¿what am i doing here?
i care so much about what other people think of me, and i shouldn't but i do. i care so much. i care when lots of people dislike me. when people say mean things about me when they think i cant hear. i am quite lost. im not really sure who i am. i just want to escape. from myself. i want to run away but my problem is that i can never leave myself.
i was walking home tonight from my daily smoke-night sessions with lauren, and as i was walking up my street towards my mailbox. i looked up and the stars and just thought "god". and looked down at my shadow. walking. alone in the dark. and started to think. ¿am i alone? is it just me when i walk. when i sit in my basement at night. when i feel the weight of my fears and past choke my heart under the harsh reality of toxins produced by my own customs.
i hate feeling like an empty pit of sorrows and diseavement. of being overfilled with disapointments and unreachable desires. i leave everyday, and come back to this shadowy glum black cloud over my heart. i feel so hollow, and so detatched from life at times. and yet everytime i walk at night i feel the throbe of bitter life seap through my porous heart. as each word spoken by another fills me more with poisonous resentment. torn from acceptance. but ever so concealed in the bitter reality of life.
i care so much about what other people think of me, and i shouldn't but i do. i care so much. i care when lots of people dislike me. when people say mean things about me when they think i cant hear. i am quite lost. im not really sure who i am. i just want to escape. from myself. i want to run away but my problem is that i can never leave myself.
i was walking home tonight from my daily smoke-night sessions with lauren, and as i was walking up my street towards my mailbox. i looked up and the stars and just thought "god". and looked down at my shadow. walking. alone in the dark. and started to think. ¿am i alone? is it just me when i walk. when i sit in my basement at night. when i feel the weight of my fears and past choke my heart under the harsh reality of toxins produced by my own customs.
i hate feeling like an empty pit of sorrows and diseavement. of being overfilled with disapointments and unreachable desires. i leave everyday, and come back to this shadowy glum black cloud over my heart. i feel so hollow, and so detatched from life at times. and yet everytime i walk at night i feel the throbe of bitter life seap through my porous heart. as each word spoken by another fills me more with poisonous resentment. torn from acceptance. but ever so concealed in the bitter reality of life.