Music is my escape from everything, from this mental prison that I’ve locked myself in. I may be happy for a few hours when I’m talking to someone, but shortly after we stop talking I’m right back where I was. I can’t stop thinking about all the things I did that I wish I would’ve done differently…or not at all. Thinking about things that I wish I would’ve seen at the time or would have been smart enough to find out on my own. All the wasted time, all the wasted months, all for nothing. I’ve never failed at so many things in such short time before.
I’ve started to hate writing on here because I feel like all I’m doing is complaining about my life.
In the end, we’re all just chalk lines on the concrete, drawn only to be washed away. For the time that I have been given, I am what I am.
I’d rather hate you for everything you are, than ever love you for something you are not. I’d rather you hate me for everything I am, than ever love me for something that I can’t be.
It’s never enough..