October 27th, 2008

I guess there's always something killing me

The best I've ever hoped for is to be thought of pleasantly by the people I've tried to help.

The vacuum left by the lack of self was, in my case, left to a benevolence that I don't find in people.

In the mythology I'm writing across the city I'm nice with submerged trouble. Everyone knows me as an easy smile with troubled eyes.