and as i let hindsight translate nightmares into reality i begin to see myself for who i truly was: somebody desperate, somebody entirely out of their depth, somebody beyond their abilities to cope.
and as i exhale out the pain, i’m digesting the severity of the depression that I've felt. the extent to which it claimed a piece of me, how it's left me emotionally vacant and painfully numb.
and now together my faults and my thoughts prey on me like vultures, creeping from their comfortable distance, never once exiting my line of vision. and the facade i invite to amble whilst wearing my skin- he isn't me and he never will be me.
and i know that i fucked up, but i want to grow from it.
this bridge is everything.
it is so weird, even after +15 years of listening to music (really listening), that it still surprises me how artists can put into words feelings that i have been struggling to describe even to myself. it’s crazy and beautiful in so many ways. it shows how strong art is, and how important music can be (specially to me).
and not only that, but also the fact that someone across the world, someone who doesn’t even know i exist can be feeling the same way i am, or have ever felt the same way i feel. that is just insane. i can only imagine how many more people there must be out there feeling the same way but living completely different lives. how we truly aren’t ‘alone’... like, at all.
i love it.
~talk’s a waste of time~
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