I became accustomed to a kind of social servitude and no one, i mean no one, could accept what i had become .
Selfish , bitter, weak. Enough to make you sick . And lately, I`ve feeling there are bits of life I`m stealing. Get me home. At times it seens I wil not help but it`s just that I save myself from fear that blankets like mist, on a optimist who insists it`s the simple things that crush, and I`m crying far too much, so much so that I`m thinking my control on life is shrinking.

Theres a light on in my head and I`m thinking what I said. All the freedom in my brain, I`m alright now, I´m just thinking what to say.

Sorry doesn`t seem to wash when there`s truths around that I have quashed and no one, I mean no one, can depress me more than I can. So does that make me weak or should that make me sick? But lately I`ve been feeling that I´m gonna give up breathing .

Theres a light on in my head and I´m thinking what you said . Al the fever in my brain, I`m alright now, I can even take the pain.