They look at me, judgingly and then they ask "why?" What the hell is so wrong with your world? And it’s a hard question to answer, well perhaps it’s actually very easy to answer – There is nothing wrong with my world. Its picture perfect actually, the only thing that is wrong, is, well me.
You see the thing is that I have become a ghost, just a ghost that everybody sees… and I cant go on haunting myself forever – and I will, because I am the unintended master of self sabotage.
My head is fuzzy from the exhaustion of living, eyes too heavy to lift. The drugs only a mast to the outside world so perfectly fake that although I know the watchers are always watching, nobody really sees what is hidden beneath.
If I could have convinced myself, things may have changed but now my workds are the only relics left from the invisible demons of my mind. Demons so consuming and buried so deep within that nobody could ever find them.
If you’ll excuse me know, I need to go and put some music on. These lyrics in my head are killing me even faster than before. Although, perhaps there is time for one last cup of tea before I lay back on the cool earth and let the sun go down around me. After all, the only real proof of life having even existed at all is in the memories of its time and the wallowing of its death.