On trying to admit how sad I am, I smile. It's pretending. That's how they get me. Catch me, trap me into their silly fucking games. Where I'm not the princess or the king. Where I am nothing but the people I have met. It isn't funny, it's a JOKE. How they change the walks and walls...
See this is a labyrinth of emotions and navigating through them is impossible for a child such as myself. and then I'm clearly in distress when you ask me to explain myself, but why?
I'm trying to see how sad I really am but I'm endlessly hoping I'm nothing at all. That I will not wake up tomorrow concious at all because I never really existed. That, of all things, would be the ultimate dream. To wake from your reverie state and realize
or actually I mean not to wake at all. Not because you're dying, or dead...no. Because you were never alive, and all these years, what they were proving was pointless
because you aren't actually
real.
Do you ever dream of never waking up?- or is that what they call the endless sleep.
Infinity.
No one wants death here, ah... but no one wants life.
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