I once saw through your eyes. Now you're as transparent as everything else. Grey, hollow, meaningless, apathy. Cigarette's fuel the smoke. If I smeared the smudge with alcohol, you'd come back as painful revelations. These sensations and vibrations take me for a ride. Walking down the street is a pain as I feel the pain in your eyes. The inactivity down the subconscious subway is beyond painful. You might as well not even exist. I'm halfway there already.