Sang words

It's like world ablaze while completely fireproof.

I do my best, I try to conceal that there is a war being waged inside. My brain has lost its mind. It's gone nuts, and my sanity has all but squirreled its way out of here. I've long been unstable, that is no breaking news, but there was some sort of balance in place, something helped keep me straight on the dangling tightrope. But something might have been building up, and the bad seems to have taken over. I've had bad night terrors, and I don't mean the ones you come across when you're sleeping. It's like the devil and god are raging inside, except we're just talking about a fallen angel and a sneaky imp. I feel trapped, because I miss things I was not used to be lacking. Goals, someone to look up to, something to look for, someone to look after; but look, these are just empty boxes right now. I know why I've kept chasing girls since I started feeling alive: to distract me from the fact that I was not. I have exceeded the point where it can be beneficial to use self-deprecation. It's become a motto, it's engraved in me. I'm never good enough, I am bloodthirsty for strength, progress, power; many abstract notions that do not even make sense to me. Yet I long for them, hoping that they will carry me to the stars. They're just so far away, and the closer I seem to get, the more the path seems to close. So I just put on a smile and get by, I do my best to transform into a puddle of myself in society, or what I think is a puddle of me, since I don't really know what either me or myself refers to - a set of feelings, emotions, behaviors, endeavors? I hold the belief that I am a reflection of the people surrounding me. I don't think I've ever been someone so to speak. I wasn't born bland, I was born flawed, but with nothing to cover the wrong. I never took away, but I took after who I deemed fit, friends, family, one-time acquaintances even to scratch away the paltry wallpaper and smother the flaws with thick layers of betterness. But the bitterness stuck, and I still don't know why, still don't know what is wrong with me. But I seemed to deal just fine. I still think I do, the episodes just are more common these days. Maybe it's what they call growing up. And while I certainly feel like I am still growing, I am growing still. And as a reflection of the people I've loved, I try all the combinations, but often come short. Something is not here, something is missing, something that would allow me to bust out of this prison of mine and take on the darkness. Because I can keep on keeping it on a tight leash for as long as I want, it's not gonna get rid of it. There has to be something here that would up the ante and still let me reach for it without pushing the sky farther away. And now that my brain has committed suicide and my heart has worked itself to death, it seems that only my guts are left.

And I'm not sure they're gonna have the guts to do that on their own.


Every time I try to write sang words, it feels wrong.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4uyXUB4PHo