Music was sometimes the foresentence of the forbidden underworlds I was always taught to fear.
I could see myself drawn in the darkness of endless beats that colored people's faces with stripes or dots right at the time to burst.
Ecstasy, the ecstasy.
I wanted to be alone because it felt good. I wanted to dance non-stop pretending not to think about anyone. I got lost.
I came back walking home. I shouldn't have donde that. It was 6 am and the streets were lonely, the sun was starting to paint the mountains yellow-burnt. I ran out of excuses to why my hands were so eagerly shaky, and then the roller coaster went south. I cried for no reason and spent all the tears left to spend in one big flawless end. I've never been my best self, I settle in for too little, because 'going big or going home' sounds like an actual loser's thoughts.
I don't want to be driven by something outside, other than my body. All I need lies inside of me. I just need to think about it and the butterflies of meeting you for the first time will show up. I don't want any other than this life. What more surreal to be living something you can't recall ever to have chosen. What more hype than not knowing what the forwarding second of existence brings, since it will never come first, always second. We live indeterminately in the past, but we like to think we're the future.
Never better drug for a moment than never knowing who you are, far beyond what and how you feel.
I could see myself drawn in the darkness of endless beats that colored people's faces with stripes or dots right at the time to burst.
Ecstasy, the ecstasy.
I wanted to be alone because it felt good. I wanted to dance non-stop pretending not to think about anyone. I got lost.
I came back walking home. I shouldn't have donde that. It was 6 am and the streets were lonely, the sun was starting to paint the mountains yellow-burnt. I ran out of excuses to why my hands were so eagerly shaky, and then the roller coaster went south. I cried for no reason and spent all the tears left to spend in one big flawless end. I've never been my best self, I settle in for too little, because 'going big or going home' sounds like an actual loser's thoughts.
I don't want to be driven by something outside, other than my body. All I need lies inside of me. I just need to think about it and the butterflies of meeting you for the first time will show up. I don't want any other than this life. What more surreal to be living something you can't recall ever to have chosen. What more hype than not knowing what the forwarding second of existence brings, since it will never come first, always second. We live indeterminately in the past, but we like to think we're the future.
Never better drug for a moment than never knowing who you are, far beyond what and how you feel.
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