He’s hurt and he likes movies and good books so he thinks he should record his experiences eloquently but he’s

Just another dumb kid who writes about what he’s been through and he’s unoriginal because his life’s not unique.

And the world stays tilted on its axis, spinning almost as fast as people’s minds stray from what’s outside the box.

And the people keep forgetting their roots; they used to live in troupes with a pack leader, when fire was born.

So how is it possible to truly be loved by someone that you love when biology makes no room for eye contact

And you’ve had so many mistakes, you’ve seen so many mistakes, that you won’t mess up like the rest of them

So you have this idol ideology that won’t ever be reached, even by the perfect sort of human, so why do you think you’re different

When everyone’s the same except one or two a year and the chances that that’s you are like a billion to one

And every other far-fetched dream you hoped would come true has ironically played its opposite and you’re sadder than you thought you would be at this point because you’ve already been through so much that it doesn’t make sense that you haven’t learned from past struggles, let-downs, and flukes

So you’ve come to a point where you’re too smart/dumb for suicide and you’re too dumb/smart to carry on with your life like you don’t know about all the strings that are attached

Which is so ridiculously typical that you would live in some martyred philosophical ruin of a paradox that I am not ashamed at all to just ignore every off-topic word you speak when we sit at a table sipping coffee or tea outside in the summer or inside when there’s snow.