we are the cure, we are the curse. walk with me. I can hardly stand it any longer. Perhaps I'm just trying to reassure myself of the inner workings. That I might be better (even though I'm not -- I am -- I'm not). Funny how when I write the keyboard registers mere fragments of my words and I have to edit it. Perhaps it's trying to tell me something. I guess I just speak in fragments.
"and we are so alone"
I'm still freezing cold and drowning in my daydreams. my eyes are the only part of my body i can stand at this rate. maybe if I knew who I was already I could spend the time I would have spent discovering myself being productive. who knows really
