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Yes, no, sit down. Sit down. Stay down. You are not a member.
I feel trapped. I feel like a child too big for its cage, hunched over and deformed, a ball of human bone and muscle. I feel like I’ve been in the cage for years, and now someone has put a mirror in front of me and I can see just how ugly I am. I see every little imperfection in my face, the little veins in my eyes. I can see everything bad, bad, bad, and for some reason I can’t shut my eyes or turn away.
I feel like I’m on a sinking ship. I feel like I’m sinking down to the bottom where I can never be lifted up. I feel dead. I haven’t found anything wonderful and new, haven’t seen anything beautiful for so long. And that’s what keeps me going, what makes me feel alive,
helps me rise above the mundane. I don’t even see jagged scars, shattered sharp glass, danger or dramatic bad feeling. I just don’t feel anything but a heavy, sad, tired feeling, too sad to cry. Days seem like lifetimes in themselves, they way I change and change and change but stay the same, built on the same old fears.
I am controlled by fear. Irrational fear, hang-ups passed over from my childhood, old connections that flare up when touched. Poking about in old wounds. I can’t read books sometimes, there are so many little things it accidentally touches upon that I can’t allow myself to think about.
The crux of the problem is that I’m not in love. Or that what I consider to be love doesn’t actually exist, it’s just a figment of Hollywood movies imagination. I’m with a girl that I like a lot. I like being with her. She’s the best human being I ever met, I think.
But I’m tearing myself apart because she thinks I love her but I don’t. I’ve never loved anything apart from some songs. I have no idea what this word ‘love’ means. It’s eating me from the inside, and it has been for a while. There’ll be nothing left to feed on soon.
Something is wrong with the way that we live.
I feel trapped. I feel like a child too big for its cage, hunched over and deformed, a ball of human bone and muscle. I feel like I’ve been in the cage for years, and now someone has put a mirror in front of me and I can see just how ugly I am. I see every little imperfection in my face, the little veins in my eyes. I can see everything bad, bad, bad, and for some reason I can’t shut my eyes or turn away.
I feel like I’m on a sinking ship. I feel like I’m sinking down to the bottom where I can never be lifted up. I feel dead. I haven’t found anything wonderful and new, haven’t seen anything beautiful for so long. And that’s what keeps me going, what makes me feel alive,
helps me rise above the mundane. I don’t even see jagged scars, shattered sharp glass, danger or dramatic bad feeling. I just don’t feel anything but a heavy, sad, tired feeling, too sad to cry. Days seem like lifetimes in themselves, they way I change and change and change but stay the same, built on the same old fears.
I am controlled by fear. Irrational fear, hang-ups passed over from my childhood, old connections that flare up when touched. Poking about in old wounds. I can’t read books sometimes, there are so many little things it accidentally touches upon that I can’t allow myself to think about.
The crux of the problem is that I’m not in love. Or that what I consider to be love doesn’t actually exist, it’s just a figment of Hollywood movies imagination. I’m with a girl that I like a lot. I like being with her. She’s the best human being I ever met, I think.
But I’m tearing myself apart because she thinks I love her but I don’t. I’ve never loved anything apart from some songs. I have no idea what this word ‘love’ means. It’s eating me from the inside, and it has been for a while. There’ll be nothing left to feed on soon.
Something is wrong with the way that we live.
and, again, I have made no sense.
"Murco senses you need advice! Weakling human unable to make own decisions! Stupid stupid minds!"
I don't see his problem, he likes her, she likes him. Take it from there and don't overthink it. Love doesn't exist in films, they aren't real no matter how convincing the acting, it's the illusion of love that you see in films, not love. With things like this I reckon most people already know the answer to their question or problems, they just need others to push them to it, or disuade them from finding it.
"Did you know that there is a million bucks hidden in the house next door?"
"But there is no house next door."
"No? Then let's build one!"
"But there is no house next door."
"No? Then let's build one!"
Jeez. I'm not good on advice, so I'm just saying jeez.
Jeez. And there is something wrong with the way that we live, with hypocrisy and fake emotions towards others.
Jeez.
Jeez. And there is something wrong with the way that we live, with hypocrisy and fake emotions towards others.
Jeez.
Maybe you should talk to her about it.. maybe it's not her but you etc, so maybe talking about it would help.
That's one down...
*dies*
Yes, no, sit down. Sit down. Stay down. You are not a member.
I feel trapped. I feel like a child too big for its cage, hunched over and deformed, a ball of human bone and muscle. I feel like I’ve been in the cage for years, and now someone has put a mirror in front of me and I can see just how ugly I am. I see every little imperfection in my face, the little veins in my eyes. I can see everything bad, bad, bad, and for some reason I can’t shut my eyes or turn away.
I feel like I’m on a sinking ship. I feel like I’m sinking down to the bottom where I can never be lifted up. I feel dead. I haven’t found anything wonderful and new, haven’t seen anything beautiful for so long. And that’s what keeps me going, what makes me feel alive,
helps me rise above the mundane. I don’t even see jagged scars, shattered sharp glass, danger or dramatic bad feeling. I just don’t feel anything but a heavy, sad, tired feeling, too sad to cry. Days seem like lifetimes in themselves, they way I change and change and change but stay the same, built on the same old fears.
I am controlled by fear. Irrational fear, hang-ups passed over from my childhood, old connections that flare up when touched. Poking about in old wounds. I can’t read books sometimes, there are so many little things it accidentally touches upon that I can’t allow myself to think about.
The crux of the problem is that I’m not in love. Or that what I consider to be love doesn’t actually exist, it’s just a figment of Hollywood movies imagination. I’m with a girl that I like a lot. I like being with her. She’s the best human being I ever met, I think.
But I’m tearing myself apart because she thinks I love her but I don’t. I’ve never loved anything apart from some songs. I have no idea what this word ‘love’ means. It’s eating me from the inside, and it has been for a while. There’ll be nothing left to feed on soon.
Something is wrong with the way that we live.
I feel trapped. I feel like a child too big for its cage, hunched over and deformed, a ball of human bone and muscle. I feel like I’ve been in the cage for years, and now someone has put a mirror in front of me and I can see just how ugly I am. I see every little imperfection in my face, the little veins in my eyes. I can see everything bad, bad, bad, and for some reason I can’t shut my eyes or turn away.
I feel like I’m on a sinking ship. I feel like I’m sinking down to the bottom where I can never be lifted up. I feel dead. I haven’t found anything wonderful and new, haven’t seen anything beautiful for so long. And that’s what keeps me going, what makes me feel alive,
helps me rise above the mundane. I don’t even see jagged scars, shattered sharp glass, danger or dramatic bad feeling. I just don’t feel anything but a heavy, sad, tired feeling, too sad to cry. Days seem like lifetimes in themselves, they way I change and change and change but stay the same, built on the same old fears.
I am controlled by fear. Irrational fear, hang-ups passed over from my childhood, old connections that flare up when touched. Poking about in old wounds. I can’t read books sometimes, there are so many little things it accidentally touches upon that I can’t allow myself to think about.
The crux of the problem is that I’m not in love. Or that what I consider to be love doesn’t actually exist, it’s just a figment of Hollywood movies imagination. I’m with a girl that I like a lot. I like being with her. She’s the best human being I ever met, I think.
But I’m tearing myself apart because she thinks I love her but I don’t. I’ve never loved anything apart from some songs. I have no idea what this word ‘love’ means. It’s eating me from the inside, and it has been for a while. There’ll be nothing left to feed on soon.
Something is wrong with the way that we live.