I am a rapid cycle semi-bipolar depressive.
This morning I got up and did things and felt great about it. Everything got taken care of and in such a way that, tomorrow, I'm one step closer.
Now it's 9 o'clock and all I really want to do is cry myself to sleep. I want to reach into my chest an rip this thing out, but I can't. I want to wallow in misery, but it feels horrible, so I don't. I want something to make a difference.
Before, I wanted the world to stop for a bit, so I could catch my breath, but I've found that even with my breath I can't run fast enough, think fast enough, slow enough, anything to fix this.
GODDAMN IT!
I keep wanting P Lady.
Forgive me for wanting you to come home.
I do not count. Not as much.
All of my friends, my family, my everyone, they all want to help but don't have anything to do. No wonder people believe in god. It hurts to know nothing's changing. Almost as bad as it hurts to simply be this way.
Fuck up
Fuck up
Fuck up
Fuck up
cliff cliff cliff cliffcliffcliffcliffcliff
Don't touch me, you'll get burned too.
I'm going to sit in the corner, don't mind me. I'm sorry for getting ash on the carpet.
Give me awhile, I'll cry myself out. The flames damp down when I'm sleeping.
Yes, as a matter of fact, I do spend a lot of my time in hell. I guess it's the price I pay for living.
This, however, isn't life, but some phantasm hallucination daydream nightmare that I can't seem to wake up from.
Every reward bring a punishment.
They only hurt because of the contrast.
This morning I got up and did things and felt great about it. Everything got taken care of and in such a way that, tomorrow, I'm one step closer.
Now it's 9 o'clock and all I really want to do is cry myself to sleep. I want to reach into my chest an rip this thing out, but I can't. I want to wallow in misery, but it feels horrible, so I don't. I want something to make a difference.
Before, I wanted the world to stop for a bit, so I could catch my breath, but I've found that even with my breath I can't run fast enough, think fast enough, slow enough, anything to fix this.
GODDAMN IT!
I keep wanting P Lady.
Forgive me for wanting you to come home.
I do not count. Not as much.
All of my friends, my family, my everyone, they all want to help but don't have anything to do. No wonder people believe in god. It hurts to know nothing's changing. Almost as bad as it hurts to simply be this way.
Fuck up
Fuck up
Fuck up
Fuck up
cliff cliff cliff cliffcliffcliffcliffcliff
Don't touch me, you'll get burned too.
I'm going to sit in the corner, don't mind me. I'm sorry for getting ash on the carpet.
Give me awhile, I'll cry myself out. The flames damp down when I'm sleeping.
Yes, as a matter of fact, I do spend a lot of my time in hell. I guess it's the price I pay for living.
This, however, isn't life, but some phantasm hallucination daydream nightmare that I can't seem to wake up from.
Every reward bring a punishment.
They only hurt because of the contrast.