I’m not dead I’m not fixed, but I’m not giving up yet I’m sick of saying that I still don't have anything done I hate telling friends I’m trying something just to give it up
I’m still unsure of my emotional state I’m still incapable of focusing lately I don’t feel like creating I’m tired of asking Google how to find motivation I don’t think I’ve ever made something that’s as good as I’m capable of
I hate not having a reason to look my best I only ever take care of myself with the intent to show the internet If what made me successful was an imposed sense of stress then I am so so glad that I hated myself
I didn’t luck into this position I struggle with decisions I wouldn’t be my own friend, I’m too inconsistent without immense pressure nothing ever gets finished If these words make it to your ears it’ll be a fucking miracle.
I’m fortunate to know more good people than most do I wish I had more friends I could be physically close to I’m pretty good at like 20 different skill sets At the expense of never being great at any one of them
I wish this beat hit harder I wish more syllables rhymed I know 99 percent of people really don’t mind I think collaborating forced me to finish things ‘cause I was terrified of wasting famous people’s time
I wish I could focus on what I define priority I wish I was as grateful as I want to be I wish I knew more people who were mentally stable But if I did, I wouldn’t let them waste their time on me while I’m disabled
I feel alone I know I’m not I used to talk to lots of people. Lately I’ve stopped They didn’t deserve it, I’ve been a terrible friend. I couldn’t bear to let myself become boring to them
I don’t let myself get my hopes up. I love people who do. Ah, I never know if what I say I feel is the truth I wish I didn’t instinctively try to be less specific So more people could relate when they read along with the lyrics
I can be happy in the moment I am not when I reflect I distract myself with gaming, waiting to get better I hate it
I wanna do the most good, and prevent the most hurt But I've gotta put on my own oxygen mask first
I can’t predict what I’ll do. I can never be sure I am terrified of making promises any more I can’t face my work, I feel sick from the word I genuinely believe I’m capable of changing the world
I still think I can get better I still think I can create and get pleasure from it I'll keep aiming to make my emotion and my logic agree And become the best version of me