Lying

Perhaps it never was.
Maybe it'll never be.

If only...Yeah, if only.

I understand it all now. I wish I didn't though, because the truth always hurts. I'd rather be lied to, I'd rather hold fast and sink with all my false hopes. Stupid, but it's all that one has.... a tiny pinprick of light is always favourable to total darkness.

It doesn't work anymore. I think I've grown immune to it, like antibiotics. Overindulgence leads to immunity. You crave for what you can't have. When you have it, you'll take it for granted. When I look at the mess I've created, I feel both triumphant and sad. Triumphant because "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger", and judging by how I'm all knocked up and still ready for the next round (if there is one), I'm supposedly stronger and sad because....this is the end of it all. I've trashed everything there is to trash, now what do I do to escape?