Wake up indifferent
Walk around silently
Dream up ambitions
Water-down anything possible
Call it hate, call it love, I call it simply Art
A destructive art that has all the ability to possess and crush every notion of serenity.
Thats the best I can proclaim given my complicated fucked up state of thoughts. Is it all my fault that my mind doesn't exist anymore? Wake me up when November comes, I'm fucking out of this.



