and building up
and still building…
the relief of a
it’s all i could do
not to crumble
under my own
and building up
and still building…
the relief of a
it’s all i could do
not to crumble
under my own
I feel it everyday, it’s all the same
It brings me down but I’m the one to blame
I’ve tried everything to get away
So here I go again, chasing you down again
Why do I do this? Over and over…
I’m depressed diagnostical
Five seconds away from detonating
Can’t talk about my problems
Just gotta keep on fucking smiling
Don’t feel it’s worth it ‘cause I’m worthless
A waste of space and a waste of pain
So I’ll count all my secrets and my losses
And drive my best friend near insane
I can’t sugarcoat my neurotic rants anymore
In sweeter words and fancier metaphors
I used to patch up all the dull grey spares
But I ran out of pastel and neon colours
I can’t sleep, so I write, I can’t write, so I sleep
Repeat the cycle until it’s bent off backwards
I can’t do something, and I can’t do nothing
Summer’s just a prolonged heatstroke reward
I’m suicidal sensational
In between dying and already dead
But I can’t talk about the same problematic shit
Someone please get me out of my head…
It feels like everyday stays the same
It’s dragging me down and I can’t pull away
So here I go again, chasing you down again…
if i was still myself now
in the words that i wrote
and the things that i said
and the songs that i sang
then i’d be a whole lot less
in the words that i borrowed
and the things that they said
and the songs that were never
even mine to mouth along to.
then; who else would i be but
another one who lost their mind
trying to stay true to themselves?
And as I’ve aged, the only thing I think has changed
Is that the demons have moved from under my bed
Into the inner depths of my head
I can’t escape the ugly things my mind creates
I speculate that they’ll stay with me ’til the grave…
I scream to the wreck of my mind on my knees
Pray for death’s innocence for my untimely release
When the hurt is too little, the numb is too much
When I want to feel more but I’m just too detached
“The disease is not real, you have no right to be sad”
Their way of caring is not caring when I start to get bad
Waiting to understand, when every time is just a relapse
Swing the pendulum again until lines on my skin overlap
And their laughter becomes a never happily ever after
I escape in the bedroom with that ugly mocking mirror
When home feels like choking fingers around my throat
I splash my face with dreams to convince myself to cope
Thinking that someday soon I will be just who I want to be
But when I say the words, it just feels like lip-syncing to me
I’m on the brink of the bottomless cliff, but I refuse to jump
Because a fool is just another fool waiting for the right bump
So I scream to the wreck of my mind to grow some wings
And pray for life’s corruption for me to be finally released
When giving up is too easy, and it’s difficult to fucking hope
I cling to what little miserable faith I have and try not to let go.
I can’t help the way my mind
Is hardwired to hate myself
Is there any hope for me?
‘Cause I swear that this is hell
The way I desperately try to save myself
‘Cause I can’t save myself…
i could be
pains i feel
but then why
should i hide
in the words
that make it
all too real?
You wanna move mountains? Go ahead
I think I’ll suffocate instead
A change of scenery won’t tame
The endless earthquakes in my head
They’re all in my head, so I’ll suffer through
A means to an end, it’s all I can do…
i’m not the one at fault
but i’m the only cause you see
so i have to take the effect
what do you want me to do?
i’ve cut myself up until
both my mind and veins are drained
but not of all the guilt that i carry
and still, would it be enough?
would it be enough for you?
i’m just so tired of waiting
until i stop being such a fucking liability
and i start being your healthy host
that you parasites can ravage
just so i could atone for what i did
or at least just so you would see it that way
because what else is there?
saying “i’m sorry” when i don’t mean it?
that wouldn’t be enough for you, would it?
but then again, it’s my fault
for being way too fucking optimistic
i don’t accept good and bad luck
and that this time i struck out
no, it’s all about positives and negatives
call it a karmic irony, if you may
find a way to be a little happy for once
and life drags you down through 7 layers of hell
tell me, loved ones, was i never enough?
and i couldn’t even write about it
because you’d call me selfish and shallow
that i have no right to be depressed
because i’m living the “good life”
and that i see only myself in all this
well, of course i fucking do
i need to place myself somewhere
otherwise i wouldn’t see the bigger picture
but don’t you see, loved ones?
will you never see that i’ve had enough?
I did what I do best, forgot myself
Got overdressed like everybody else
A glance and a half smile
Black heels on the white tile
It took seven years for your path to realign…
i am made of torn skin
and overplayed stereo songs
and a million miles to cali
and washed-out daydream colours
i’m lost; some would say gone
and my stares are silent dynamite
i remember what i throw away
again my tongue detonates
and i’m searching for meaning
in a world that’s as meaningless
as a crude april first joke
and not in the least bit funny
but i’ll keep on looking anyway
and maybe it will make sense
in some parallel universe someday
where time doesn’t wear my skin
and songs never sound the same
and cali’s just a tiptoe and half away
and the daydream never fades.
Gone, doesn’t it feel good to be invisible?
Gone, just like the way I used to be
Gone, have I been fading away?
Yeah, I’m so gone, gone…
of yours was
I’m calling you from the future
To let you know we made a mistake
And there’s a fog from the past
That’s giving me, giving me such a headache
And I’m back with a madness…
When I reevaluate myself
Where do I start to draw the line
Between the beginning and the change
Down my brain or with my spine?
When did my hands start shifting
To change pure gold into black rust
And lucidity became obstinate
Covering the mirrors with cold dust?
What place was my starting line
And when did I stumble and trip?
Did I get to the checkered finish
Or trampled by my opponents’ feet?
Why did my pen become cynical
And my heart run out of honest ink
How did my eyes fail to see the picture
When did my mind cease to think?
Have I truly changed for the better
Or did I just become a stranger shape
From fitting out of the cramped box
Because I wished for a little more space?
Did I drift away from my audience
As their applause started to sound the same
Was I meant for a moment in spotlights
Or was I meant to hide away my own name?
Were these lines on my face here before
Or the lines on my arms and thighs?
And the lines I once thought avant-garde
Are they now nothing but banal lies?
And why did my tongue get longer
But the accuracy in their wings clipped
Confusion may soar abound the sky
But my heavy body refuses to lift
Regrets and problems, I once could carry
Have broken my back and my will to be
The things I loved, reduced to wistful smiles
Memories once happy turned sorry
I wish I didn’t sulk and drain myself
Turn off the lights just to be haunted by ghosts
I fucking wish I didn’t have to be so insecure
To let emotions linger like a gracious host
Sometimes I think I really know myself
Until everyone says the complete opposite
And everything I do turns upsidedown
I become less uncertain of my purposeful visit
Just who was I? Or rather, just who am I now?
When I reassess, all I do is think and rethink again
It hurts my head, and I’ll just start to lose myself
Better to keep the present than to bury myself in past skins.
I got rage every day, on the inside
The only thing I do is sit around and kill time
I’m trying to blow out the pilot light
I’m trying to blow out the light
I’m just young enough to still believe, still believe
But young enough not to know what to believe in…
Take the pain
Make it billboard big and swallow it for me
Time capsule for the future
Trust me, that’s what I will be
Oh, the things that you do in the name
Of what you love
You are doomed but just enough…
i’m just so sick of faith
being forced down my throat
like it’s a mandatory responsibility
i may as well be tasting tax bills
but even then, at least i know
that the former is concrete, instead
of blindly fumbling for my hands as
i clasp the scapular and mumble
memorised prayers that i grew tired of
in another dead lifetime ago
because if i have to starve for days
and cut myself open just to enter heaven,
then why do they tell me it’s the devil’s fault?
isn’t that what i’m doing, anyway?
and what’s the fucking point of paradise?
Yes, the norms and dictations were all fun and
amusing when i was a wide-eyed child
so malleable, curious, and foolish enough to believe in
santa claus and the tooth fairy and tall tales
and believing whatever people told me was true
because i couldn’t construct my own reality back then
but now i’m older (one may contradict that
i’m not *that* old, but if my family says i’m old
enough to have to go through this bullshit, then that’s
adequately old enough for me, thanks very much)
and i’m wornout and jaded and tired and have
gone through not a lot, but just enough to lose the beliefs
that have done nothing good or beneficial for me
because all the saints and the promises of salvation
couldn’t make my eyes fall shut every night
and keep them wide open every morning,
day in and day out, over and over and over again.
i may as well be wishing quiet little whims every 11:11
or plucking lucky four-leaf clovers from grass
for whatever faith that’s worth anchoring myself onto.
Now, i know to keep my mouth shut and respect their faiths
but just don’t fucking cram all of it down my throat
like it’s my responsibility to be a good child,
to feel sorry for my sins and stay away from hell…
because if i live in a world like this, just how bad can that be?
And it’s getting hard to know what’s real
And if death is the last appointment
Then we’re all just sitting in the waiting room
I am just a human trying to avoid my certain doom…