I haven't hated myself this much in quite so long.
I romanticize these mistakes but they're nothing for future sights.
They're but a lie, in the many lies we're telling ourselves.
How did I manage to sweep the only people left,
and kill them in the wreckage of the destruction of myself?
The hardest part is the choice whether to be sober,
because I'm not sure what kind of person is worse.
Because it doesn't seem to matter which one,
they're always trying to destroy something else.
You cannot create a building,
by destroying someone else's tower.
Maybe I'm just incapable,
of loving another person in a complete and pure fashion.
For it always burns out,
when I throw myself into the fire.
And all these people that used to love me,
now really hate my guts.
And I'm trying to warn you.
But you're not listening,
and nobody's listening.
And I'm not listening, either.
I continue on,
repeating the same choices as before.
And I can't stand myself, anymore.
So I don't blame you all.