I Threw You The Obvious
To See What Occurs Behind The
Eyes Of A Fallen Angel
Eyes Of A Tragedy
Oh Well,
Apparently Nothing
(You Don't See Me At All)
As for the last entry...
As much as I hate broken promises, I won't be giving a very thorough update. Long, possibly, but to most it won't be worth a damn as far as being informative.
I don't think that it really matters at the moment, anyway.
Depending on what happens I may just stop, anyway.
There's really not too much to say about it.
I feel that the things I do are what is ruining everything, even if that's not true. Even if a lot of these things can't be helped. I just keep losing tiny pieces of myself each time these things happen, and it makes me wonder if there will be anything left when it comes time to stitch the pieces back together, or if it will all just detonate in one moment and leave no trace of hope.
I don't even want to touch my sketch pad anymore.
It has nothing to do with this, but I can't bring myself to sing, either. It's like I can't feel the music right now. It's just noise in the background...
I can't even cry right now.
The only thing that I can feel right now is a literal sensation of wind passing through and spreading in my chest. The hole is painful and searing, but everything else just keeps getting colder until I can't feel it anymore. My fingers, my lips, my legs; they're all a slight shade of violet. My head feels as though it would fall from my neck if I could just move fast enough, and my food is making an attempt to claw it's way back up my throat as violently as possible.
That is the only thing that I am afraid of;
That the sensation I am feeling is trying to tell me that he's already turned away, and took what had been in that void with him.
I hope not.
Not for something as meaningless as that.
