Reading countless posts which talk about how the generations most remarkable feature is that they've lost the willingness to live and aside from art and the culture of melancholy that enraptures our vacuous minds,all I can think is , if death was a gift, what makes you think you deserve it ?
Sick hearts chasing delusions , we're the twenty first century of a world meant for destruction at its own hands by people who forgot humanity before they learned how to crawl.
You've prayed so much to be free you can feel the tons of unanswered calls pressing up against your eyeballs like a weight the sides of your skull don't want to hold any longer and you're thinking of freeing yourself in the shower , freeing yourself as you walk home , you're thinking of the rope he wound around his neck and how his parents begged you not to do it to yours and you're wondering , am I really all that different ?
You're wondering if his family can remember his face because you're beginning to forget your family's names and you've been so far so long , you're trying to convince yourself you wouldn't matter and they can forget. You've made homes of roads that moved on, who is the weakest ?
Anger is no longer distinctive , I can feel it every day,corrupting my senses , burning through my veins , reducing me to viciousness , stripped down to bare animalistic desires , you think you're different but so does everybody else, but you're all monsters , you've all learnt to break hearts, just different kinds.