moody

fuck.


Now I know how Hank Moody must feel. This emptiness inside. So many feelings and no way to let them out, to express them. Just me. Alone.

I would love to write them all down, but I can't. I don't have the words. Don't have the strength. It's like my feelings are locked inside of me. They're begging me to release them. To let them go. But I can't. I lost the key. Can't remember where I put it. Just lost it.
My feelings are trapped now. Maybe I'll find the key tomorrow, maybe on the day after tomorrow. Maybe in a week, a month or a year. Or maybe never. Who knows? I don't.

I'm just sitting here, tired as hell, but don't wanna go to bed, cause I'm afraid of my dreams. Sometimes they just seem too real. I'm afraid of waking up, noticing that it was just a dream. It hurts.
But I can't stay awake forever - neither can I sleep forever. Too bad.

Just wish I could fly.