I think this is not proper. I guess I should just shrug this off. And I know this is useless. Why do I have to bother? Really. I’d really wish to end this – if only I could.
I’m tired of ignoring, tired of concealing, I don’t know how to stop this pain.
I can’t help but just wonder because all there is are bits, fragments of the real thing.
And I am trapped in a case, can’t think of anything but all those days.
Why does it have to be like this? I thought we do exist.
We’ve entered a world that lies on that thin line between reality and imaginary.
Or was it just me, all through these years, am I bound in a mockery?
Will you come up one day and tell me, so to stop this insanity.