Is what seems to plague my every thought as I walk through this land of the empty. So many of the persons I come into contact with are slowly losing their life and happiness. Actually, I shouldn't say it in that manner because I am convinced I am growing more and more mentally ill as the days go on and it would make more sense if I just said flat out that nothing excites me.
But, oh, look... I'm the difficult one. Ever so melodramatic and irresponsible...
I don't even know why I signed up to Mibba today for the second time... I suppose I'm getting tired of simply writing down my poetry with a pencil and it is so much easier to edit on here and get criticism I wouldn't dare ask for in my prison.
That prison is, of course, built by me. No no, sorry kids, I'm not a convicted sexual deviant yet or anything.
Well, fuck. If anyone wants to chat I'm up for it and I have MSN and a myspace. I'm too lazy to care about rapists right now, but if you want to kill me go right ahead.
Yours,
Deadman.
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