when does the rain become the ocean? or the bread become the ****?
it's all semantics isn't it really isn't "myself" just my minds interpretation of its known realities balanced against my own fantasies and furthermore if myself does not exist then it wouldn't be able to be lost
clever
A mind is a beautiful thing and it's great at convincing itself of things it knows to be untrue I lost myself in you of that much I am sure
How did I lose grip? when did I let myself get comfortable why did I it always ends the same way in as much in that it ends but you were supposed to be different and even though I knew that to be untrue my mind convinced itself of that