"All these things we'll one day swallow whole
And fade out again"
"Street Spirit (Fade Out)" by Radiohead.
It seems like hearts have been broken.
The only voices I can identify inside of my head says "STOP" and another one that says "TALKING" - well, I don't know if they're combined, but I can't tell why I've been so messed up.
Maybe she wasn't the sick one, maybe she got sick for me being the sick one.
Maybe she was right, maybe I was the baddest thing that ever happened to her.
I don't know what to say and no longer what to think.
I've thought I've had you also as a friend, but I can see I've lost that a long miles ago and I don't know exactly why.
It's okay for you to ignore me from now on, 'cause I'd do the same if I were you.
The psycho and immature son of a bitch who suddenly started to talk shit and made you need a friend.
Another one. A different one.
Wasn't you supposed to be a friend of mine, either? Shouldn't we be able to count on ourselves when the things get bad? I guess that was a misunderstanding, because the time I needed you to the most or opened myself up that much, I haven't you. Not the way you've said I've had it and certainly way more different than the way you've been saying you've being. What was the point of asking myself to talk what I was thinking, in the first place? I wonder... Would you just let me die, for this once?
You've built these expectations on me. You've fed them up.
Dammit, I think I'm more angry and pissed then reasonable. I know I've been a jerk too, but I was counting on you, so I guess I'm sorry.
I should just come back to work and die. Silent, not to disturb anyone.
Doug
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