I found myself in an embarrassing situation, not lost anymore in depths of my mind. Feeling like I finally found a place of peace inside my head.
Don't think everything is alright since I'm not in peace with myself and I don't think I'll ever be. It's just the place where I sit and my energy flows into wild artistic patterns not making me tremble wildly that I destroy instead of create.
It's like growing myself a wing...

In any case I'm trying to accept this tragic feeling of believing I must be better, more delicate, more sure of my power. I try to become someone who I think I should be, (like any other young man perhaps) and it hurts, and it kills the man I am. Then again who said it should not be painful trying to become better and maybe, just maybe, less human.
Like growing myself a wing...

Now
Wile as I watch those insane feelings, they drive me, fulfilling me. Its fucking uneasy to simply let go, and it doesn't matter if I become better, much better, much more caring
as there is no option to fly with just one wing.
I call it the matter of faith. I do not have to believe in myself or in anyone else, but I must believe in some awkward,
lonely girl, maybe desperate, maybe not, that carries the other wing.
So where the fuck are You? Need a map?