Every night, the same routine; I hate that I'm not good enough, I'm in anger, I wanna kill someone, I wanna die, I hate my hair, I hate my tattoo, 'cos there's still too much of my skin showing, so I draw on the top of it, 'til I'm happy, just have no money to take it for real. The same fucked up routine, I hate everything, and be too nervous, 'til I calm down, listen some good tunes, and wait for tomorrow, hope for a better.
You can say, I'm insane. I may be a fuckin' wierd guy, u know... Today, at about 1am at night, I was walking home from a friends new house, I felt somehow scared, and somehow a panic started to build inside, like I did'nt know if I'm dreaming or awake... I saw some strange silhuette in the dark, and that's where it all went fucked up. I really pinched myself many fucking times, to know if I'm not dreaming... I really did not know... And I don't know if that's normal behaviour. Like anything I do's never normal, but anyway.
Tonight, as I write, I also realize, that there's only one home for me, in the whole universe left. It's when I sit behind my drum set. That's the only time for me, when I do not feel disturbed, or nervous, or suicidal. I just hope, I could play my drums, for a living, for a good band, forever. I also hope, that someday I'm good enough at my instrument, but that, for me, may never happen, for I'm never satisfied with myself...
Hope to have some sleep to have strength to wake up in the morning.
Goodnight, creepies.
Bono Suicide...
