It's rainin' again.
I feel like the world is tryin' to tell me something,
but everything is full of noise.
I'm pretendin' I'm okay.
I don't want them to start makin' stupid questions.
Everybody always asks stupid questions.
Are you fine?
Of course not you idiot,
my life is a fuckin' mess,
I'm losin' weight
'cause I can't eat properly
and the anxiety I feel is makin' me sick.
Instead of that,
I choose to answer: yes, I'm fine,
and I nod slightly.
Lyin' is so easy it freaks me out sometimes.

It's rainin' again.
I feel like runnin'.
I want to escape all this crap around.
But I can't,
and instead I start to read "A brief history of time"
and it makes my head so dizzy I'm not even able
to think of you.
It helps, you know.

When chocolate doesn't improve them
it means things are gettin' hard.
And weird.
And akward.
And I don't like them that way.
Shhhhh,
don't talk.
I can't hear the music.

Remember when Alicia falls into the rabbit-hole?

I like that song.
And I like the way I dance that song.
You see, it gets better when I dance.
Loads better.

Time stops,
everything fills up with smoke,
light hits the skin
and the heart starts poundin'.
Bare feet,
trembling,
feelin' the heat.


It smells like rebirth,
like a second chance.