And if to narrate is to live, then I'm on the right track, am I not?

But some words, dead words, lack a certain weight.

A sense of sluggishness and tiredness overcomes me. I feel like burning the sky, the houses, the faces, the trees, to burn them all down and dance in their ashes. It's been so long since I felt this, or rather, allowed myself to feel this way. Today, I let my guard down. Today, I let myself down. I let the people around me down. My facade, my fallacy slipped. It felt like I went back into four years ago, that despised and pitiful creature.

How can I hate that side of me so much, yet embrace it with such silent and twisted relish?

Nestled and protected in your arms, your womb, for all my life, but you never knew me, never saw me, never heard me. You don't know me. Am I a by-product of your foolish actions? Or have I paved the way to who I am today?

Funny how humans push the blame to everyone but themselves.

This descent the abyss, this talk about disappearing and nothingness, is this what I truly want? Have I ever wanted? Or craved for anything? It feels right, these salty tracks down my cheeks. Because everything else feels wrong, awry and stale.

What happens if you realise that whatever you have believed is only a dream, and the nightmare is only but starting?
The sky is red. and the city beneath it is like a giant gray slug. Everything tips back and falls onto a grayscale of notingness and everythingness. The city lurches, trying to throw me off, I teeter off course. With my face on the dirty ground, mouth tasting the filthy dirt, I wonder, wonder again, why do I subject myself to this rollercoaster of emotions?

I refused to see it. Dreaming is a sin. Foolishness, a felony. Dreams, fantasies and hopes, the cruelty of them. They set your heart alight, blazing with passion and burn you to cinders, ashes, till you're nothing. Nothing at all. I thread on rainbows and skyscrapers, breathing in the dizzy air of ecstasy and inspiration, oblivious to the coming end. But reality always has its last laugh. This voice inside my head is screaming, not whispering, but yelling. A fucking talentless waste of space. And I fall. I burn the skies and fall to the ground. Hoping to be dead when I hit the ground, with glassed-over eyes.

I run, trying to shake this slugginess off. Gaining momentum, my legs pumping with adrenaline. If I could outrun time, I could outrun the city, and get the hell out of here. When in actual fact, all I am doing is rummaging through the drawers trying to find a bottle of pills to knock back with a strong brew of coffee. This broken radio inside my head, playing the same old songs over and over again, my motions in sync with heartbreak and rhyme.

The terrible clarity of things send me reeling, retching all over the floor. I've got your smile upside down. All wrong, yet you still smile. There is nothing here. Nothing worth redemption. I'm everywhere, but here. This must be death, I think. The whitness of a soul, and the plagues of nothingness residing in me, eroding, corroding. Then this unbearable roaring in my ears. My eyes water, my hearts disintegrates, my throat shrieks, its sound lost in the reverberation of the monstrous cacophony of noise.

"Film me." you say. And everything stops. And I stop. The noise dissipates. Your voice crashes into my skull, right into my brain. I tremble and feel the pouring rain upon my cheeks. The roulette spins, fast, and the colors bleed through my eyes. Faster, faster, I spin, your smile falters, your voice twists, your eyes bleed, your hands breaks away, our eyes, our hands, your words, my dreams, everything, something, then suddenly, nothi-....

Darkness.

I wake up, and find the space beside my bed. A space full of emptiness, as it has always been.
For that moment, I'm tossing, turning. I look away. My heart sinks. My stomach hurts, at the sight in fornt of me. I turn away. See you looking at me at the corner of my eye. My head turns again. This time in your direction. And our eyes meet. Our eyes widen. I sit there, transfixed, enthralled. The shimmer of diamonds in your eyes. And I feel myself falling. The corners of your mouth upturned. A smile that could power the current throughout town.

If only you knew, the power you have over me, held so flippantly in your hands. You're the sound of a summer sunset. The tingle of the cobalt night. As I sit there, my heart continues to overflow.

And I wonder, do I really wanna cross that line?
I'm standing here, with nothing to my name. But a black bag and the attire I stand in. No name, no history, this is the story of a hollowed man.I'm waiting for something, someone to whisk me off my feet and wake me up.Somewhere where happiness exists within the grasp of my fragile fingers. Somewhere different from here. Somewhere where freedom is an indulgence and not a choice.

Something inside here is burning.
I'm burning my wings, my beautiful angel wings.
The feathers are metling, melting, into each other, into a gnarled and twisted mess of memories and liabilities.

I watch my hands burst in flames before me. I retch your name over and over again. In fact, I retch names, prayers, profanities, lyrics over and over again.
Nothing happens. I'm still burning.

The city lights burn white into my head.
Gaping wide holes to remind me of times now lost.
To remind me of everything that I am not.
The fictionettes spread their legs wide open upon the plasma embodiments that I hide about myself today.

I'm screaming, shrieking for someone, something.
What's wrong? What's wrong with her eyes?

What the fuck is wrong with you?
Quit staring at me. Or you will fall right through this cracks that crawl right into me. I will be the next to fail you. And you will fall too, my tragic hero.
This lack of empathy, sympathy only fuels my regret and angst.

Go on, tear me apart. What are you waiting for? For me to run? For me to hide?

A pale face stares into the dark. I fall, I stumble, I break. Crimson flowers blossom everywhere.
I can't see them in the dark though. What am I doing? Who am I to them? To anyone?

Can anyone hear me? Do you hear this heart burning?
Hear, the sizzle of the blood boiling, the popping of arteries, and
the grizzly sound of the heart shrivelling and blackening.
It's dead. It's fucking dead.

But these eyes are still wide open, staring, living dead.

Who the fuck are you? Why do you stand here in this place and pretend to be me?
Why can't I wake up from this nightmare? I'm disconnected. I'm falling.

Don't catch me. I need to break.
My break. To fall right onto the ground, break every single bones in me, burst into flames, reduce myself to ashes. To roll dead on the ground like a bird, my glassy eyes at the back of my head.

And feel the pain of the end. The end of my everything. The end of this dream called life.
The end of this life called hell.