I became accustomed to a kind of social servitude and no one, imean no one, could accept what i had become .
Selfish , bitter, weak. Enough to make you sick . And lately,I`ve feeling there are bits of life I`m stealing. Get me home.At times it seens I wil not help but it`s just that I savemyself from fear that blankets like mist, on a optimist whoinsists it`s the simple things that crush, and I`m crying fartoo much, so much so that I`m thinking my control on life isshrinking.

Theres a light on in my head and I`m thinking what I said. Allthe freedom in my brain, I`m alright now, I´m just thinking whatto say.

Sorry doesn`t seem to wash when there`s truths around that I havequashed and no one, I mean no one, can depress me more than Ican. So does that make me weak or should that make me sick? Butlately I`ve been feeling that I´m gonna give up breathing .

Theres a light on in my head and I´m thinking what you said . Althe fever in my brain, I`m alright now, I can even take thepain.