Chainsmoking menthols, creating clouds on parade. Living in the dark; frenching hurt that I've made. There's a sadness in my comfort and a comfort in my sadness. ***, fame, ******* down commercialized madness.
I don't dream of pornstars as much as I dream of clothes. Videogames to escape it all, carbon monoxide through my nose. Too good for this and that; entitlement at an all-time high. Doing television to help me live, or maybe to help me die.
Spotify for the masses beating in my brain. Youtube and pornhub to make me feel the same as the lost I compare to myself and the celebs I want to be. I want to be on edge, rich, validated; I want to live in a fractured harmony.