My dear friends, or whoever may be listening. I am exhausted. through with looking for truth. Please don't think hatefully upon my disposition. It's not that I fear speech, no words come to mind.
Memories fade, colors start to show. When the fuck did I sink so low? Through the glass I see a portrait. A portrait of a stranger, so much stranger to you and I.
My dear friends, I know you've grown tired. Tired of my ramblings, of whatever haunts my mind. Hopeful wishing especially of the past is a black pit to fall into. I truly miss all of you, but honestly I miss myself more.
all rights reserved