Brain Food, Dear diary

#9

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I’m a monster with a pretty face. You will go away too like the others did. I know it. You will get infected, become broken and suffer in misery. You will want to run away and never return again. My claws will smash your little heart into pieces, but when I will realize the damage done, it will be too late. You’ll be drowning in those deep muds screaming for help. I will be possessed by the dark mask, blinded and binded to its fate.

As I lay in my bed, light up a cigarette and watch a cloud passing by. Everything is still, static, passive. I desire to touch, my curiosity reaches my limits, can’t control it. I can’t see the sun, I don’t need it.

I close my eyes while collapsing on my pillows and ending watching the ceiling. That blank ceiling, a painful image for my soul yet depressing. I’m waiting for something to happen. I desire to talk, but how could possible someone talk to me ? There is nothing left of me to talk with. I’m empty as that coke bottle you just drank. Emptier than my crushed cigarette. Don’t try to save me, I don’t want and not in the need of being saved. I’m nothing but another creep, wandering around, searching for another lost soul.

I’m a monster. Breathing underwater like a newborn, singing you a lullaby poisoning your grotesque soul.


Song of the day : Sleepy Sun – New Age

Petit ☮


 

Check out the previous diary entry, #8

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