My words are locked inside of me.
It is rude to talk to oneself in public, so I refrain from doing it.
My tongue is twisting itself, trying to part my lips.
All the curse words I want to yell, I tense my jaws so they won't escape.
Gods, I am so sorry I hold you in, but I must.
I'm afraid for my image.
I have a lot of things to say, believe me, please.
I'm trying so hard to hold onto all these images I want you to see
When you think of me that I'm losing--
My personality seems fickle because I emit all kinds of vibes
That attract all kinds of creatures.
Sometimes I involuntarily emit the wrong one to one of the creatures it has ensnared,
And that creature wonders where the hell is that particular light I always showed.
Jesus Christ, I've invoked your name
Even though I am not one of yours
To lament about my distresses.
I am having a pity party in a dark room, where I am wearing
A jacket, but my back is cold, where I am wearing
Shorts but my bared legs are warm, who the fuck will want to attend at this rate?
That's right, me, what the hell is there to celebrate?
Why am I selfish?
How the fuck am I selfish?
I don't want to take on responsibilities unless they pertain to me.
I don't want to unburden the load on people unless I gain from those.
I make up excuses, but inside I feel like punching myself.
Sometimes I believe someone is writing my life from behind my back,
I, never to see my writer,
My writer always to write my future.
Is this an excuse or a phenomenon?
I always think about what I should be thinking.
I reprimand myself over selfish thoughts, approve when it is compassionate and kind.
God fuck, I don't want to categorize and single out my thoughts like this!
Tired of what?
Why am I in such a loop?
Why is it so hard to talk?