It's in the essence of the sadness that I wallow
Deep in the depths of the melancholy valleys
Each breath a patient arey countdown awaiting such an urgent end
It's the great escape
It's the oxycotton
They're the air bubbles in the drip
They're the spiders in my veins trying to break free
It's the remedy for now

Step 1
Isolation
Step 2
Self discrimination
Step3
Ventilation
Step 4
Self medicating
Step 5
The end

At first we start off happy but than life,our maker begins to chip away at us ,moulding us into the people we currently are.

At first we are entirely oblivious as to how things got so bad
We blame god. We blame people We blame nature. Why do we always have to have somebody to blame?

We need someone to blame because we don't want to admit that we failed our hopes and dreams  
We sit there and accuse anything and anyone for our life being ****

When we are young we truly beilieve that we can be that astraunat,that doctor.  That vet that princess that prince but the truth is 90% of us will never get there.
The small 10% that get there are the believers the striving the ones who aren't afraid of hard work, the ones who aren't afraid to fail

Hopefully I become part of that 10% failure has never scared me because I look at it more as trial and error and constantly question myself What have I got to loose?

She pollutes the starry night skies
with her aspirations,
its her imagination
the only thing pushing life forward
Her dreams and her hopes
They're  her motivation
They're the coal to the fire
They're the oxygen to the living
They're the land to the sea
It's the optimism in this pessimistic hell hole

The doors beep like an ominous life support we are all just trapped in this large piece of metal hoping to get to wherever we want to wander

When the knife hits the skin
Oh the pain within
The moans aren't alone
They're comforted with raindrops of red
They're puddling onto the floor
Each drop an echoing tap
There's a rhythm now
It has a pulse
Each collective drop , a beat
The sound of death awaiting

So here where are standing
Acting like the adults do
But we are the mere fragments that give them drive
Here we are trying to fill shoes that are already filled
Here we are trying to pick up the pieces but constantly failing
Here we are trying to tie up little laces of small children's shoes
Here we are trying to make a homely environment
Here we are nagging and moaning
Here we are ordering others to do
their chores

Here we are trying to play you

Just disguise the insanity and call it creativity and suddenly people have a new profound respect for you, the trick is hold up the sane facade.

This wandering invigorates my being, my purpose, my existence. I never have a destination. I just wander.