.. I grow more and more tired everyday... Ive grown bitter and resentful...i hate every body and and prefer to be alone in the dark ....its where i feel welcome and safe.. Away from judgemental eyes and fake smiles... I feel the pull of sweet nothingness. Gently, as if with tendrals made of smoke, it worms its way into my mind, starting to taint and infect more and more each hour spent in soundless slumber. I fear one day i shall not have the energy nor the resolve to keep the beast at bay, and it shall envelope me in its cold, loving embrace... Untill that day i shall exist with nothing but a bitter heart, and a mask.. Wearing nothing but the sorrowful Tears of a Clown
