I’m afraid to write about bands that I like For a fear of seeming that I am appealing to a fanbase that I Would like to belong to, would like to report to And at the end of day, I wouldn’t feel ashamed of knowing I was playing a dirty game No, that’s not me, I don’t really care what you think Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, no, fuck me I’m sorry, it’s just the mood swings, it’s taken years and years Of in-depth testing to find that my brain don’t quite work properly And I’m sorry to everyone and everything For my disability in doing normal people things Like talk on the phone, or go outside Or maintain friendships, get a job, or the simple task: to be alive And in the context of society, I’m coming to terms With the fact that I, the fact that I, the fact that I Just might be worth nothing