August 10, 2010

Random

I can't be.
I'm full of unforgivable love. Full of sincere thoughts, full of care for things I can't control. I substitute my true self with everything I do. I'm not real anymore, just full of shit.
Another night, another whiskey.
I want to sleep no more. My dreams are those of misery, of loss. Every night, I have to let go of what matters most. And it just laughs, smiles with this damn smile of satisfaction, because I have to give up.
Why can't you just go?
I'm a fucking disaster. A tragedy waiting to happen. Thinking straight is not possible, so I drift to long lost feelings, unstoppable thoughts. I'm in a state of constant self-distraction from myself. From whatever it is, I pretend to be.

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