Back to Top

boxes as fuck.

It seems as though I feel nothing.
I think I have a mind, at least, I hope I do. Though all I ever remember thinking, is, “HELLO, BRAIN? Is anybody or any-fucking-thing fucking inside of that worthless cave of shit I call a skull?”

I see people walking through the shops. 
I admire their clothing, hair, eyeglasses and bags. 
Though I know I’ll never be one of them, it’s nice to pretend. 

Fuck, I am only what I pretend to be.