How weird it is to sit beneath the loud mouth-moving absurd people and feel that you don’t belong here… As if the world is telling you that no matter what you do you will always feel this twinge of discomfort.. Shame on the world to let you forget the true peace of the wondrous skies.
The mellow sensations of fright and guilt, the agony of doing something tragically disastrous. The shame you feel when you don’t know what’s wrong… The horror of being embarrassed and stripped, so anyone can see your hidden imperfections. It’s okay we’ll be fine, no sorry you’ve crossed the line.
Doughtful nights reckoning to show, it’s like standing across a fucking bow.
Sleep tight my young friend, we’re not even close to the end.