Disgusted and changed in a sick way. All I want to do is listen. Nothing appeals to me like it did before. Why can’t I do it the way I always did and just not care? I keep digging and maybe my hole is getting too deep.
I want to be taken away. I want to be shown things I’ve never seen. I want to experience something else and someone else. I would die to feel real, just for once.
Something tells me to live instead of dig. Fill the void with new worlds and new thoughts. But what can I do when it takes two? My life is in the hands of those who don’t care.
I never wanted to be alone. But it’s better to be alone than to play with plastic people. And there are no real people in a plastic world. My sorrow leaves little room for hope.
I’m a pigeon with clipped wings.