Distressed mind looking for answers.
Empowered by thoughts that’s not clinical
But rather disturbing and haunting.
Thoughts that take me away,
they’re cold and overwhelmingly
harmful to other people.

Thought positivity would help me feel better.
It doesn’t.
Optimistic beliefs haven’t had a good work on me.

I try to stay away from people.
Depressive disorder is what defines me.
I take hits because they help me.
They take me to a better place
A place that’s calmer,
With less bullshit to deal with.

Good days are hard to come by.
Good memories are being faded away,
Into oblivion.
The soul becomes tired.

Whatever you hear now is a lie
Trust will always be the issue.
Maybe it’s the past that made me this way.
Practical living becomes obvious.

Saturday’s couldn’t become more pathetic.
Mondays were always the best.
Living like this has made me
love the worst of days.

Predictive emotions lie ahead.
I’m drowning in my own disaster.
Words may help me open up
But nothing will make me feel calmer.
While the productive thinking doesn’t even turn and tries to come back.

Intertwining with people now is like
finding a needle in a haystack.
My mind is so full of shit.
I can’t even describe it.
Maybe that’s the reason people don’t wanna get close to me.
I’m like a disease,
like a walking tragedy.
Contagious to the race of humanity.

I’ve given in to the thoughts that’s inside my head.
How could we possibly function with a mind that’s not sane?
Its never gonna be the same again.
Possibly the worst feeling one can actually get.

Do you remember being a kid and having no regard for the real world?
I can’t anymore.
The negativity is so strong that I could even forget my childhood.
That’s the amount of hateful thoughts I’ve got in me
that you probably don’t even wanna know.

Never thought this would be so hard.
They say life is hard to live,
But what’s hard for me is,
The thoughts that cripple us.
The thoughts that soon stick with us.
It’s a lifetime of an affliction living.

The vanity in this world has gone.
Lies overtaking the truth.
My perpetual adorations are becoming semi professional because,
Even the saints have become sinners.
Innocent living is a myth.
But in the end, yeah,
the good do really die young.

Bless the wasted youths of our sorry generation.


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