Inside my head there are many things. Many shits. Many obsessions and this.
This is the road I am walking on. There is no sun but my eyes are burnt.
How to disappear ? Manuel pour la disparition. Manuel pour une Parfaite Disparition. Slowly. You start from everything and go to nothing. And this music. Why cannot it stop ? I am sick. Come on. Let's take a backpack and leave. Or live. Or nothing. I thing I am a sleepwalker. It turns out I often hurt myself. I am not sure but I often find scars on my face or on my hands. It is boring to watch people everyday, to say the same words, the same meaningless shits. Time is running out and I am bored. A sitting girl in a boring room. I miss the sea. I miss walking on the harbour. I have got a music in my head. I fucking I. Selfish, useless, transparentand now fat.
Le fil. Le long du fil il y a un chemin mais on ne peut le voir alors personne ne le suit. En s'accrochant on remonte, on monte, on remonte et on aperçoit même la surface. But, it is an illusion. How to figure out what to do ? I miss playing guitar and violin. Slow and sad rhythms. A great escape. The great escape.
This is the road I am walking on. There is no sun but my eyes are burnt.
Le fil. Le long du fil il y a un chemin mais on ne peut le voir alors personne ne le suit. En s'accrochant on remonte, on monte, on remonte et on aperçoit même la surface. But, it is an illusion. How to figure out what to do ? I miss playing guitar and violin. Slow and sad rhythms. A great escape. The great escape.