Why this now? All of a sudden, all this melancholy, all this urge to hurt, to kill, to smell? Shit. Am I going crazy? Is this madness or just a phase? One of my bad days? Guess not. This thing comes to stay. Maybe the drug's effect is over and I'm slowly turning into the real me. The realm. Maybe a project of a bad leading personality...
Even now, even after I hurt someone, I feel okay. I'm getting used to melancholy. Getting used to use to get any. I wanna hurt again, wanna feel it even more. Intensity, that's the word. Gotta shake the good so that they can feel the bad. Gotta tell the people: they just think I live. They just think I'm funny, when actually all I do is use everyone. Is this wrong? Am I wrong? Not in my own opinion.
Then after the whole shit, I'll wake up and find out it was just the sleep using me. Do the devil dance in sleepiness? Is it all for real? Where's my funk now? Just a super brainboosted cracky singing off tune? He's famous, you know! He lost his father. Bullshit. That's nonsense for me. But what would happen if all my family was suddenly dead? This kind of thought is so common to me.
I keep another lifetime reason to send my fingernails to hell.
And this one goes to my new collection.
I'm a reason collector.
Someday I'll have my purpose store's gates wide open.