im not depressed anymore.
but that doesn't mean i'm happy.
i do bad things.
it makes me feel alive.
i trust no one.
there's not one good person out there, i believe.
even the most innocent have their secrets,
their weaknesses, and they need to figure themselves out.
how about me?
of course, i do too.
but i know what's apart from good and bad.
morally, i mean.
why are people so fucked up?
wake me up when september ends.
and when the bullshit gradually ceases to exist.
:)
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