Think, think, think.
Round the clock, a constant tick and tock.
Think, think, think.
Don't bother trying to fall asleep, there's all this thinking to be done.
Think, think, think...
How am I going to get all my shit from Philly? My books, most importantly. And my guitar.
Think, think, think.
You think she still thinks about me? You think it even fucking matters anymore?
Think, think...
Why are you still thinking about it then, when it's obvious that it hasn't for way longer than you have been made aware of?
Think, think, think.
But we thought we were making the right choice?
Think, think, think...
Why do I keep finding myself talking to myself in third person more and more?
Think... think... think...
How are you ever going to walk out of this rut? Me. How am I ever going to get out of this fucking rut? This cycle, this constant churning. The sleeping through the fucking day, and my mind slowly burning.
Think. Think. Think.
Why hasn't she replied to my email yet? Are we not allowed or supposed to do this anymore? What if I'm just imposing anyway? People all have their own lives and shit, that's why we've assigned people that do it for a living and make money off of it... right?
Think... fuck, I'm so hungry... every time I try to eat, it seems my stomach has given up on me too. I've been left, a shell of my former self. I'm hungry now, and the world is all but asleep. I don't even feel like making myself food, anymore. FUCK.
Got to stop cursing so much. Got to stop self hating so much. Got to do so many things, but where is the time? Got to shut my mind off and get some shut eye... but then, when do I get the time to think about all this stuff? But then, when will I ever sleep... but if I sleep, the monsters are all still going to be there when I open my eyes...
Fuck, though. I've been through worse shit, have I not? I'm still here to tell the story and shit.
That's how it is. All night, every night. The Yin and Yang, like the fucking wheel of fortune, spinning back and forth.
All night, every night.
Round the clock, a constant tick and tock.
Think, think, think.
Don't bother trying to fall asleep, there's all this thinking to be done.
Think, think, think...
How am I going to get all my shit from Philly? My books, most importantly. And my guitar.
Think, think, think.
You think she still thinks about me? You think it even fucking matters anymore?
Think, think...
Why are you still thinking about it then, when it's obvious that it hasn't for way longer than you have been made aware of?
Think, think, think.
But we thought we were making the right choice?
Think, think, think...
Why do I keep finding myself talking to myself in third person more and more?
Think... think... think...
How are you ever going to walk out of this rut? Me. How am I ever going to get out of this fucking rut? This cycle, this constant churning. The sleeping through the fucking day, and my mind slowly burning.
Think. Think. Think.
Why hasn't she replied to my email yet? Are we not allowed or supposed to do this anymore? What if I'm just imposing anyway? People all have their own lives and shit, that's why we've assigned people that do it for a living and make money off of it... right?
Think... fuck, I'm so hungry... every time I try to eat, it seems my stomach has given up on me too. I've been left, a shell of my former self. I'm hungry now, and the world is all but asleep. I don't even feel like making myself food, anymore. FUCK.
Got to stop cursing so much. Got to stop self hating so much. Got to do so many things, but where is the time? Got to shut my mind off and get some shut eye... but then, when do I get the time to think about all this stuff? But then, when will I ever sleep... but if I sleep, the monsters are all still going to be there when I open my eyes...
Fuck, though. I've been through worse shit, have I not? I'm still here to tell the story and shit.
That's how it is. All night, every night. The Yin and Yang, like the fucking wheel of fortune, spinning back and forth.
All night, every night.
