Six hours of sleep and the feeling matches with the image of being torned apart. Who's fault is it?. From our own choices we pay: with health, sleep or love.
One day, I woke up in the middle of the apartment, traveling around and looking for the cash. There was none, not even a sinlge penny. The craving in my lungs have pressed itself into my whole guts. The craving after cigarettes. Why that kind of agonizing desire?. Just like a sin, what will save me from plague and doupt.
Human beings are ugly, smartenin' their deck with the stranger's feathers, grabbing after those unknown ideological masks, breathlessly. There is no need to ask about what I write or think, if you are unable to follow the crash. I am lost in my own maze of brain. The only one, who can rip it up is me, myself and I. What is logical to me, is illogical to others and disorganized mess of chaos. Well, you don't need to understand me, only if I don't get myself lost in this, that is important.
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