My mind goes on and off lately; I feel like every solid part is falling, breaking into hundred pieces, but they are not tiny, they're big and heavy, making eco, filling an empty room full of chaos. They fall, and with them, me. Try to stood still, sane, not fragile; try not to cry.
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Try to take xanax, but honestly im not brave enough. Wait, not suicide kids, just to sleep. Since Tuesday, everything is just so rotten, twisted, insane. The girl in the cover photo of the first part, has changed. I mean, it's ok, but I think no one is brave enough. Probably true what they say bout me, probably came from my inner circle. Low key, i just wanna some true faces, low key I want to be enough for myself. Someone I can sing with, I can share a bed with, I can stay up all night dancing. And none of us is getting any younger; the older you get the liar. Friday nights are so lonely, in fact every night. "This dream isn't feeling sweet"
HIGH|fucking|SCHOOL, "you gonna miss it" FOR SURE. Maybe if I was Regina George it'll be easier. With just one "why are you so obsessed with me?" Everything would be fixed.
Ya podemos irnos en paz. No. Espera. Serás juzgado una vez más. No tardo.
Si por supuesto, en las fotografías se ve extra fine. ¿Sabes qué hay un trasfondo? No es tan profundo el asunto, //google search: frases de Frida Kahlo| Julio Cortázar|Wiz Khalifa|Will Smith// -add a caption- share. Pero, ¿alguien realmente habla de Freud? De que para superar la pérdida de tu padre, tu pareja tiene que vestirse de como lo recuerdas y hacer el amor; ¿Nietzsche? Para hacerte dudar sobre tus creencias religiosas, y la carta mágica a Lou; ¿Lovecraft? Dejemos a un lado a Stephen King, sobrevalorado. Vamos, algún clásico literario como F.S Fitzgerald, I bet you don't know the meaning of "F.S" haha, dumbass.
Me gustaría observar los rascacielos de Manhattan, comiendo pizza de un dólar y tomando bubble tea. Tomemos un recorrido mental. The Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) it's so damn cool bro. Clásico: Times Square. Brooklyn, churches. Soho: chic/ iconic. Hamptons: elitista/ "before we go out, what's your address?" Central Park: YIKES. Suburbs: wtf is that being in New York?
Mi ser piensa que es único, que es radiante y lleno de luz. Yo solo pienso en que mi foquito se debilita todos los días. Vamos a ser sinceros, ya nadie es luz. La única luz que ofrece el universo, son las luces neón reflejadas en la disco-ball. Turn a little bit louder the music, I don't wanna hear my own thoughts. It has been hard. I promise I'm not a bitch. I just want my friends back.
