in the long shot, I was nothing really.
Fond of your affection. I won't even understand what this means when it's all done. And I want my death because it will be the only thing that's all mine. All mine. I don't want it now, but I want the experience. I guess if I knew, I'd be okay, but you can't know. It's not allowed. "Oh love, I missed you so much. I did. And would you hug me, I'm dying for your arms around me." Though not so dramatic. But the intention would be the same. If my world were perfect. I can't help speaking in fragments. I need to do work, work, work, but my mind is in a perfect dream.
I had the credentials and everything, I was just too fucked up for words.
Oh, my despair! How fucking laughable. I'm a right mess and an awful one at that. Insulting myself is just the custom around here. You should know that, silly goose.
Condescending all the same, you loved me for it, all of you, once and never again.
