Spending every evening regulating my breathing, contemplating how my life came to be, pretentious shit that means nothing, but I kid myself I’m free.
I gotta give up the bottle before it gives up me, too many gaps in my memory, it makes me sick,
When I’m waking up wondering how I ended up outside a hospital holding a brick,
Wake up wondering how I ended up getting my kicks from getting dick every other weekend from a skinny hipster kid who I used to give a fuck about, now I’m fucking out.
I used to underestimate my ability to lie, but it’s become impossible to hide; I care more for keeping my ego well fed than I do for keeping my soul alive.
Like a comedown when I’m coming to my senses; I do what I want without worrying about the consequences, then when I have to deal with them I don’t, tell myself to stop but I won’t.
So is it any wonder I confuse love with lust? I surround myself with people I fake feelings for and friends I don’t trust.
People ask why I’m constantly so vexed, they say I need more money, friends or sex; I don’t, I need faith in humanity and a reality check.