now it's more the opposite way. Real life is imitating art in a scary way.
I'm so sorry dad, now I know how you felt.
Last night I spent in A+E
My robot play - the robot part is gone, the suicide bit remains.
Life imitates art.
and memories come flooding back
Oh god, oh god.
It's funny how things work out. History repeats itself, there are no exceptions. And for once I am inclined to believe that, although everything happens for a reason, that reason isn't always a good one.
And right now my vision is full of so much wood that I can't even imagine trees. What a bad twist of expression, I'm losing my touch at the grand old age of 18.
I don't know where this is going, but I know where it's come from. And I never want to see it again.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
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