Story
I smell plaster, glue, and death as I walk down the empty halls. I curse the summer
heat, winter cold, and praise the short-lived fall. Pieces of my body fall off as I succumb
to the old... They have come to take me away, as they are loud and bold... I am
increasingly alone, locked inside my head. My only friends are either away or dead.. So
here I am in all my faded glory... It seems this is more than half way through my story...
This story with all its unbelievable twists. This story, convoluted, in the darkness and
mist... This story that is in constant change... This story that goes from placid to
deranged...
Self affliction, addiction, conviction, and rage...
Self mutilation, suffocation, salvation, opps, wrong page...
Let me tell you a story about my life. By the end of it your wrists too will be craving the
knife...
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