Don't cut my heart with this subject, it will bleed profusely.

I thought the house was driving toward me, but it turns out I was only driving toward the house.

I've got dreams in Nyquil castles.

How delusional and detached from reality do I have to become before I feel fine? And how safe will I be after that?

DREAM

SCHWINEZ.

The only thing I've wanted to talk about at length for the past couple of years is you, and how much I did or didn't deserve things. But now that all consuming blaze of whatever has stifled. I don't know what to do about it.

I always used to like to pretend that I was older until I was too old to pretend.