I feel the patience dying inside. I feel the rational being in me choking on itself. I lost the magic, gave it to the dogs, of course. I see them licking on it at the corner of my street. I just pass by never looking at them but always knowing they`re there and I`d just give myself to anyone who wants to take me home. I`m a walking theatre on too many acts… I forgot which act was mine to begin with, I just play on other people’s stages and feel comfortable but never on my own. It hurts playing on your own, it makes you see the misery and pain, it makes you look at yourself and drop a tear in the rain, because… the rain, it’s the best place to hide. A-ha knew what they were talking about. So I walk the narrow paths beneath the smoking skies, sometimes I can barely tell the difference between the darkness and light. I`m forgeting who I am and what I want. I`m losing myself in thinking without feeling, I`m giving myself away… but forgeting how to give myself completely.

I`m killing my best chance of peace.

I`m weary and tired of this world, of me. I`m sick of having to do things right. I`m sick of not fucking up my life. I`m sick of starving my soul. I`m sick of waiting for the right time... to lose my mind.

So I took a cup of coffee, to prove that you don’t love me.