this place is a whirlwind of chaos drunkenness laziness. i couldn't sleep if i wanted to. maybe if i was drunk. it is fantastic and at the same time i am weary of this life. no, not this life. certain elements of this existence. there is so much vacuousness sometimes. how can you not feel the pull of the emptiness? to stuff cotton into the wound is all. the temporary fixes plug for a bit but never clot the blood. sex and substance.
fucking german keyboards all backwards. fucking israeli boys. i will never sleep tonight.
in the eye of minor storms i am lost. oh tornado pick me up and twirl me into the air into oblivion. find for me the passion i so desperately crave. find for me a face that will mirror mine in the light in the eyes. i know that there will never be one that can know every nuance, but is it not right that there should be one that will try?
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