It won’t take that long anyway... well at least I hope so.
So the whole recording stuff didn’t work because the other girl was sick and I know this damn text almost by heart now. Next week.
A strange day and I still feel this vacuum around that I can only fill with empty things for everything else would be far too heavy.
The words “I want to go home” are haunting my mind yet I don’t know where home is everything feels... it feels like... warped in cotton wool. The first time I was in an asylum (I was fifteen) and the door closed behind me and I could hear the lock turn I was scared. The first time I came home for the weekend and I heard the door close without the lock turning I was even more scared... it felt like being at the mercy of someone I couldn’t trust: me. And walking outside through those streets that didn’t knew me anymore or knew what has happened I felt like nothing could really touch me like I didn’t made it back in the right space-time continuum and was now delayed for seconds so every attempt to get in touch with me had to fail.
Baby you are just too sensitive
Are you numb enough?
Can we ever feel this
Impending void?
Have we become what we intended
To avoid?
Have you ever smiled for too long?
Till you're aching
Have you ever laughed till you cried?
Till your heart is breaking.
Have you ever smiled for too long?
Till you're aching
Have you ever laughed till your heart is breaking.
Moloko
Quite a mess…yes…
