We all look for something that kills this thing inside of us.
A quick fix.
Whether it was the bottom of a whiskey bottle, or the tip of the needle.
Bottom of a bottle of pills, or taking the last drag hoping this might finally kill us.
But the truth is, you’ll feel ten times worse afterwards.
A quick fix is just a permanent damage.
The only way is up when you hit the floor.
You cant keep crawling the rest of your life.
You cant pull on something hoping this would pick you up and put you on your feet again.
Its every man for himself in this world.
And the sooner you accept it, the sooner you get back up.
When your body feels like its got its on weather going on, and each day is different.
You feel like its harboring a storm today.
Its rainy tomorrow.
Its gloomy the next.
Its cloudy throughout the whole week.
And all you ask for, all you beg for is a ray of sunshine.
And when that happens, you feel out of place.
Like this feeling doesn’t belong to you.
You have grown accustomed to the tornado inside of you.
You have made your home inside of a hurricane.
I still cant figure out what this thing inside of me is.
Is it the longing for death ?
Longing for music ?
Longing for life ?
Or just plain emptiness eating me alive ?
Its like something scratching to come out but never makes an appearance.
Always ends up being a nervous breakdown.
A breakdown of what has become of me, of my life.
Of wondering when will I ever wake up from this nightmare.
I don’t know if I’m asleep or awake anymore.
I just want to wake up.