| I like these works so much, that I would not only favourite them, but also hang them on my cluttered walls to admire. |


Bipolar BearsI have so much love to give. But I can't. BECAUSE IT IS ABUSED BY EVERYONE ELSE. OR IT IS TURNED INTO FEAR. OR USED TO MANIPULATE. OR A PRODUCT. AND SO I USE HATE. INSTEAD. I have so much love to give. But I can't. Because this world has become immune. IT'S AN ILLUSION, FICTION, I'M NOT LOSING MY MIND BECAUSE IT'S ALREADY LOST. THERE'S NOTHING TO FIND. No one believes in love. Only the idea of it.Bipolar Bears


Blue EyesSometimes I convince myself that I have blue eyes, and remember I've forgotten, when I look in the mirror.Blue Eyes
And although I don't have blue eyes, there are ways around it.
Like a blue shirt, rushed cotton; a waterfall stopped. I can see your hard work but I can't see your eyes. Are you then real? Can you feel?
I want no technology, only days. Of all the places I could have seen, yet I've stared at a screen
yet in between I've seen the world by means of sitting on a chair. Life isn't fair and I have not been. I don't have blue eyes &nb


I am AliveYour world in my basement. A dream never comes true because a dream is only what it is.I am Alive
What becomes is something else. I don't believe you, and your show is not music. Music is a world in your basement. It is you alone and it is your heart in your hands bleeding all over the carpet. This is not music.
And I don't believe you.
Only in my naivity did I, once before.
As I lay in this prickly and unkind grass, I know you've gone away, and with this pulsing in my head I find only my legs to be real, bare and uncovered. Dawn is my blanket and it is not so sparing. &n
| I like these works so much, that I would not only favourite them, but also hang them on my cluttered walls to admire. |
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Be you own hero.
Be your own saviour.
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Be you own hero.
Be your own saviour.
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