when there's always something there...

to remind me.

and I will never be...
free.

I'm wasted (again). 
And I guess that explains the title of this post and my drunk singing which you my unfortunate reader can not (fortunately) hear.

I wish I could say I'm just on a mission to destroy what's left of me, but I'm really not. I'm just a functional semi-person who

drinks way too much and has to get up to go to work and try to not make a fool of himself and even make an effort because despite everything I still care.

and I try, I do. But I go on and live.

Sometimes I just regret the fact that I do not seem to fit the role of this bad motherfucker who drawns himself into the void.

I really don't know why I care that much...

"I'm just a little person

one person in a sea

of many little people

who are not aware of me..."

I'm just too fucking proud to hate myself.

(I hate it)