And try to just keep moving on with my broken heart and my absent God

And I want to scream out that it all is nonsense
and their life's one track and can't they see it's pointless?
but just then my knees give under me
my head feels weak and suddenly
it's clear to see it's not them but me
who's lost my self-identity
as I hide behind these books I read
while scribbling my poetry
like art could save a wretch like me
with some ideal ideology
that no one could hope to achieve.
And I'm never real, it's just a sketch of me
and everything I've made is trite and cheap
and a waste
of paint, of tape, of time.

So love me now, hell is coming

Could you do it now? Hell is here

Don't adore what is impossible

And you're holding your breath for the rest of your life
Don't you love what is intangible

And we don't know what we are doing. Maybe just buying us some hope, because we know that we are lonely

Maybe it's me who's this unstable, always obsessed about the end.
Why can't I let what happens happen and just enjoy the time I spend.
Oh, how I wish it was so easy.

11.5 - Vankelmodig.

That circus tiger's going to break your heart. Something so wild turned into paper

Conor Oberst – Lenders in the Temple

En av mina absoluta favoritlåtar.

And it is quite safe to hide this way

XIV.XI - Om att komma för nära;

but are we weak enough to die this way?

Is it too late to remind you how we were? But not our last days of silence, screaming, blur

Känner att jag behöver en paus från precis allting. Därför är de precis det jag tänker göra. Försvinna ett tag för att sedan komma tillbaka återfödd.

Sur le fil


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