I know it's taking me forever to just give up. But I am so far below that it is hard to just push stop. If only I could count the times my body gave up, maybe I would understand. I wish I felt vivid and alive, blowing up big holes in the sky. It's so easy for you to erase what I create in this blurry haze. The mask I polish every evening by the morning looks like shit. And my head is a wreck there's no question about it.