i think i wanna be a recluse
recluse
cause we're full of contradictions
i wanna sleep in the refuse
refuse
it's just an alias of mine

now i wanna be a recluse
recluse
i see the strain in every star i find

i know i'm the strain in every star i find

well, you could give me the world
but i wouldn't even want it
bring this poem to my neck
would i be eager to confront it?
we're stuck in a paradox loop
and i'm starting to feel nauseous
when you realize there's nothing you can do
it's best to be cautious

I send forth tendrils,
A radiating darkness
And pull everything in towards the center forever

It leaves an image on my surface,
Sometimes
Such a satisfying execution

But when I remember what I'm doing... ****!

I have no light of my own
We have ways of saying it
You give me ***** looks

You are all my children
My spawn
Whether you admit it or not

And we all share properties,

But only I can say I am The Sickness.

Charmer,
Put on your best face.
That's what they see!
Our work is to the curve.

And stay far away
You are not,
You are
You
Y

Write
write write,
I do not read
Despite
The fact I understand...

Most of my life

Has been spent listening, adjusting!

Write
write write,
I will not read
I'm right
And when I'm wrong

You'll come for me,
And that'll happen either way! Ha haaa!

So yes,
You're cool
Because you stayed
In school
I left
Because the world is so insane!

So set
Me straight
And if you can,
I'll wait,
Or... I will try
To carve out my fate! Ha haaa!

Let's talk about my forced position.

The nucleation of demons,
You allege that I allow it.

No one wants it!

Hey, maybe I'll become an electrician.

Would you foster my comeuppance?

I've got no choice in any matter.

Who the **** am I even angry at?
Maybe Bowser?

Ha, hahaha.

Back to being depressing.

The original stigma comes from the fact
That I'm only complaining to myself
There is no oversight
I am tearing myself apart
And you don't care
In some scenes you only laugh
And now every time I laugh, I choke
Because I don't want to be the one
It's not right
There should be something,
Something established for this person.

Must've done something wrong
The rock stands in the water
Heavy streams pushes by
I thought I heard voices talking about me

But it was not just the stream
There are voices talking about me
Building up a case, like in Kafka's book
Me, and what I did wrong

But I haven't done anything wrong,
I was born and everything just followed.

So shut the **** up.

Drawn to or repelled
All the same I feel you

And nobody is wrong for how they feel

Still you might not enjoy every feeling of another,
Who may not agree with sentiments
Which now are all too real.

Is the problem that I feel it?
But no, feeling is the reason!
Should I attempt to conceal it?
There's no hiding from the truth!
So much imbued within each moment,
That I forfeit all description.
You ramble on,
Complicit in your convoluted feud