I’m tired. soo bloody tired of this whole tirade. I can’t stand by, I can’t stand near, Things have changed, I must accept it, I should tell you I love you, but it won’t mean a thing. Nothing is as it appears. Or so I have come to believe.
I am suffering the strange urge to get dressed up, listen to some tunes and get smashed drinking red wine. Not think about anything, not make any plans, just to up an go. I used to that once. Where has the fun gone. Long summer days and warm nights, milling about, with a gang of folk all doing their own thing, but doing it all together. Maybe it didn’t really happen like that, but I like to...
I’m soo bloody sick.
I’m struck with a sick feeling deep in my stomach. A physical reaction to self-destructive behaviour. I’m sorry for anything I said in the heat of the moment. I feel like a soul drifting at sea, Awash in the expanse of the ocean, The Devil can’t find me, The Angels don’t want me, And none but the creatures of the deep keep me company.