This is everything. This is it. That is all. I cannot extend. I can't pretent I never felt, anything. Because I am feeling everything. I build these boxes of things that I find, or things i'm given, or things to remember, I never get rid of them because my mind tells me not to because I will have bad luck. But it's all bullshit. Two fucks don't make a right. I still keep them. The boxes are full, but my faith is lost. These are all lies. You are all, all lies. One trip you hate everyone. The next you are conected with the dirt. You have carpenter hands. Strong and stiff. You tell me to let it happen. I don't speak. So you stay at home with the kitchens bill to pays. The height of the hills you walk. And my fog through pills. The loss of my. will. innocence. i was ready when you were. hasnt anyone ever told you, no means yes?

i am corrupt. i am only as corrupt as i let them make me. i am fake. just like you are fake, just like they made us. just like we were too vulnerable and too young to take advantage of our feelings. but we're old and we're conformed and we can have opinions. but then someone proves you wrong. and then we've all gone crazy, haven't we? we start doing drugs, and we get sleepy. we dont sleep because we say its overrated. we eat drugs., but we dont eat. the protien. we need. the protien that was meant for us to eat. that society BELIEVES we need. how are we free if we are told what we need. how are we free if we are backed into a corner out of fear. i am not scared and i am not ready. but i am here. and i am screaming this is it. and i just lied because im sitting in a room filled with smoke and shit all over the floor. and i am a failure. and i will continue to fall back on everything i say. i am alone, and i am afraid. i am independent and i am not scared of anything. i am free but, i am stuck in this corner. i am loved. but i am forced to make decisions that make me not loved. i am ready, but i have noone to shoot the gun. i am fake. and so are you.