How is it?
That when ever it is looking bright out side that it rains?
When i turn the corner in this maze i find something fun but i always end up at the same place?
I see you and i feel like melting but i never can?
I need this more than anything but will never have it?
That he can do such a thing to me?
I can't resist the temptation of that one book?
That those words can stuff everything up?
I am so many different people?
I really just don't know any more?
That i believe it will happen?
He can keep saying it?
He won't say it?
I don't really care anymore?
How is it?
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The random scribbling that comes to my head, that i must put somewhere. The insane babble that is the work of my mind and that stuff only i understand.
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