I wanna do this. I wanna do that.
But it seems as if I only wanna do this and that just to keep my parents off my back.
I wanna do this and that because it seems like all my old friends are succeeding where I'm failing.
I wanna do this and that because I don't want everyone to call me a shitton of wasted potential.
I wanna do this and that because I don't want to be labeled as something I'm not.
But its gonna happen anyway. Guess I just gotta get over it huh?
Do what you love is what they say, but theres nothing I enjoy any longer.

The sun don't shine like it used to. Its missing its luster. That glow that caused mens true hearts to show.
They call it depression and laugh because I look blue. I'm sorry that I cannot see life renewed.

They say call Jesus, and he's near, but I can't accept half the shit that he has to say. Its not true about me.
Not me, for I've done the worst. Not me, because I'm the vampire that drains the world.
But if I could, I'd give everything away just to make some smile even for a moment.
It brings me great sadness that everything I do is for but just a day. Hopefully some will remember my actions, not my face. What was done, not who I was. I hope they take that, and further themselves.

But it all feels like boldface lies. A perpetuation of a justification for my own thoughts and ideals. Or so what people told me. I wonder oftentimes what they spoke of, the only ideals that float through my mind are giving all that I can so that some may be able to stifle that hunger that dwells upon the lips of everyone's hearts.

I thought I could be coldhearted, but I oftentime shed tears at even the smallest blight upon another man's being.

I try not to ask others for anything, not out of pride, but because I feel take so much from people already. Every step outside makes me want to return to my cell, and every moment inside this cell, makes we wish to break free.

Half of what I do, with the random childishness, is to give people some light. To distract them from the darkness outside. But I guess its no good. Tis vain. For I cannot even make myself smile when doing so. Besides...Maybe they're all supposed to walk through that horrific place.

I fear I've been ehre so long that I cannot remember if I'm still here, or on the other side of that path just yet.

Find it hard to think sometimes...Feels as if someone is constantly nitpicking at every single thought I have.

Theres always that little voice inside your head thats so quiet. So subtle. So beautiful even that always speaks of your purity. I find it hard to believe that voice. Very hard. All I see is what I've done to everyone else around me. Or maybe I see what they see, and have long discarded my own view on things.