Started swallowing blues again to get though the day, watching red run down my arms to combat the perpetual knot inside my stomach screaming “the life you live is empty” too much of a social suicide to register on radars and too much of a fuck up to be ignored. Round and round, would rather be along anyway, less chance of fucking it up again. Too heavy to keep ahold of anymore, sick of dragging my guts on pavements and railway lines. Not enough time to stop and tell the world I’m losing my hair though stress and medication leaves me throwing up and passed out on the floor at night. Passed out in pain in the desperate attempt to feel human. People accept lies when you give them a small truth with it, there is always a ‘but’, “good but a bit tired,” “feeling down but getting back up there.” The future is this apparition created by them to make me believe that there is a road out of this, their isn’t there is no way out, no way out, no way out at all. Blue and red and water wash them down and watch the world spin and feel alive again. I think I’m addicted to pushing myself to limits. Or rather addicted to trying to feel again. One night and one more time, thanks for the memories but this is the last time I breath. When you find me sleeping please don’t wake me up, I’m thinking of having DNR tattooed across my chest, when I fall no one catch me. Long long stories are just tragedies, paralytic by ten thirty. Sing me to sleep tonight and tell me tomorrow wont be so bad, because there isn’t much more I can take. The smiles, the laughs, the jokes are all fake. In the toilet at break and lunch I watch red run down my arms, wipe away and then smile, clean up and walk out. Sit and take notes in lectures and as if nothing happened. I can’t control my mind anymore, it runs away from me and it escapes me, I want to leave this place but they keep telling me quitters never win but when happens when you never quit and still never win?
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