Nothing much to be said

I see nothing.
I feel nothing.
The birds sing at four in the morning - I thought I was going crazy, but the birds we're really singing.
She makes me happy. I feel happy for the times we talk to each other - others think I just wanna fuck them (or get fucked by them ). Fuck them all. Burn them all down.
Ideas flow in my mind and yet I won't write, I won't draw, I won't make the small things I want to and feel like to.
Ideas flow in my mind. Some would be unread, unseen. Others, would possibly delight the world.
I am back to reality. Reality bites. Everything bites.

I know what you're made of - I guess I simply wanted to fool myself, young man.
I see you online, wandering the streets and you shit in my head, when I help you whenever I can, even taking the damage on my own budget.
You say nothing and keep on acting like shit.
I know how shitty you are. You don't surprise me. Not anymore.

I remember looking at the night sky and seeing the lightning cutting it in two. Or three. Or ten.
I remember staying outside as it rained hard and the thunder shake even our souls.
The scented smoke in the air.
Innocence.

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