People don't understand why I shrink myself,
Why I look like I'm trapped in a comfy ball,
Why I chose to not go, why I chose to not pursue life
And instead, I lay down in the bed looking for reasons to not exist.
When you are in my condition you basically have three options:
One is - you go literally crazy, spreading, shouting words to the unknown
Painting your house at 4 am, fast speech of the light
Embracing your body like you are motherfucking piece of art
Creating and producing everything you didn't do for the last six months
Because you were in the fase two.
The fase two consists basically in crying yourself to sleep every fucking day,
Searching every type of suicide on the web
Hitting on your boyfriend because he doesn't loves you,
But he really does, but you don't believe it how someone can love such a mess.
People are following you...
You are being followed by the fucking air, by your fucking shadow.
Eventually you get tired of this situation and there's when you get to fase three,
Where you literally give up... You dont' dress to impress
You dress because it's there,
You don't eat because you are hungry, you eat because it's there
You only go out because that's what is supposed to do.
Everything is not great but nothing is miseareble,
You couldn't care less.
Your friends are ending college
You are trapped in a non being, netflix all the day.
They tell you should do projects and appreciate life
But when you were literally the most happy person on earth
When you could touch the sky and say I am god!
They were the first ones to put you in the hospital
Because there is no such thing as too much happiness…
When you were paitning canvas with your own blood,
Collecting your tears to make a real river,
Following your own projects,
They were the first ones who said you should fucking sheer up!
Art doesn't have to be so macabre,
Your life doesn't have to be like the passion of christ!
And then that's when it hits you!
It hits you that you can no longer persue your pourpse,
Because that means,
You are going insane.