Muse

drained, extinguished off this supposed creativity, where is the love and affection? everyday is a new day, everyday looking for materials to write and restrictions plus conditions granted with small amount of salt. living vicariously on other people's life, gaining popularity from things that people will never acknowledge yet everyday without fail you log on to the net browsing the same thing and fall into the trap of the century: of you being the hero and saving the world from frustration and pain. come to me let me build you a new life allow me to give you a sense of belonging so you could walk over anyone that ever treat you nasty. walk over them, step on them squeeze their little balls until they bleed incessantly and jump on them dont stop jumping until they were lifeless. nothing as ever satisfying as watching something wither away, treat it like watching a rose die, treat it like watching an idea being put off. always on your feet, listen to your boss, never argue, you dont have any say, you merely exist to serve your function so they can parade you around tell bad things about you in front of their contemporaries. sometimes people forget that other people have feelings and being compassionate is never in the book, long has it lost its way in the forest. start with a smile and then pretend your life is always easy, walking to work is a good exercise when in reality you just dont have enough to buy a god damn car.