And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane

Too young for this many regrets. Still, I walk around with this voice in my head saying "You should be out there doing all the things you wanted to do when you couldn't." Although things have been fun and reckless-ish (battle scars and all). I guess. Maybe it's because I know this is just pretend. H8 school and the ridiculous.. failure. I feel like a failure doing this. And on top of everything else, comfort is void. More than void really. Alone yet with complications that come with not being alone... yet still alone. Ish. I think I've truly forgotten what it feels like to be this.. what is the polite word for liberated? I still in quietly in the corner, rolling my tongue and "cooly judge people". Hurhur. Though you really can't deny that I have learnt keep my cool in awkward situations.. now. ("FUCK!") Can't deny the ridiculous bitterness but it's nothing we haven't heard before right? Fucking blind spots. Ugh. This anger and bitterness recycle in me, like waves that crash endlessly. Endlessly. It is precisely because I don't want to get used to it that's keeping me so cold. I want it to always sting. Number one douchebag. Why am I really this much of a man? Perhaps this realization is a little late, or maybe everybody's just such a girl. Hurhur. Spent my days pretending; pretending it doesn't exist, pretending it didn't happen, pretending not to see, pretending not to feel.

With every bubble she sank with a drink