I've been tracing out this misery trend, counting down the days 'til I'm alone again. I've been tracing out this misery trend and I don't know what to think. In every indifferent day I'm finding a new thing to hate. The days are changing but if feels the same to me. I'm watching everything slowly change. We're all flirting with the fractures and we will fall into the faults, misleading frames without those names to help sedate these nervous thoughts. Oh, how I hear them sing! A chorus of canyons echoing out to me, they're fucking ringing in my ears. But here I am with these hands digging holes that will never equate and I will never escape from this nervous feeling, this settling syndrome that plagues and betrays me. And I struggle so much, but for what? A meaningless memory I'll too soon forget. I wake up each day entirely blank wondering how I will force myself to feel that day. It's like the constant pangs of misery I feel are keeping the beat of my life. It's always burning the back of my head, making sure I don't forget. We all have our crutches, mine's a dying idea, I'm remembering dreams I never had but it's all the same to me because I just need something to keep myself awake. It's a losing game to convince yourself you mean anything. My life will fall apart but who gives a fuck? Like a river I'll never learn: the same path 'til I crash and burn, and I'm forever facing death knowing I can never return.
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