I’m statisfied, I’m finding myself , the closer I get the further away I seem to be.
I’m not there to be your friend, and It seems that this doesn’t matter to me, so it makes no difference.
I’m here to be me, I’m not here to be your friend – I’m happy to be distastefull in my approach.
I’m not here to make you like me, I don’t like myself sometimes so, why the fuck would care what you think?
I’m statisfied with these things – I expect you to too, else their is no place for you on this road I’m taking…
Sometimes I get so angy, I get sick. Sometimes I get so furious, I seem steam, sometimes I die – Its these times that I realise that their is more to life….
But for now, I’m happy – Just dont say anything to me you wouldn’t want your enemy to say to you – I’m angry under these sheets…