If you think that since I've confessed my love that I'm not in pain and that I'm on the brink of more or less going insane, you would be fifty percent correct, cause my brain was infected like a virus encrypting the mainframe. Pitched a tent to stop the rain from ******* with my game of life. Costs a cent to view the pain of friends using knifes on their strife ridden bodies at night. Pain is plain, easy, and cheap, memories for keep, no change, just rearranged mental states. Same intentions kept on the front page, new inventions used to hide their age so it looks like nothing changed.