I feel occasionally my skull will crack, fatigue is continuous - I only go from less exhausted to more exhausted & back again.

I am not cruel, only truthful.

Is there no way out of the mind?

The future is what matters — because one never reaches it, but always stays in the present — like the White Queen who had to run like the wind to remain in the same spot.

See, the darkness is leaking from the cracks. I cannot contain it. I cannot contain my life.

The sun gives you ulcers, the wind gives you T.B. Once you were beautiful.

And I, love, am a pathological liar.