Whether it's casually droppin some e or staying up all night playing music, making music.
I say this again, it's a very selfish love and I don't mind. There is no heartache, only hope.
Some days are bad. I write to myself. I pretend like the demons don't exist. After all, they're only in my head.
It doesn't matter.
None of this matters.
Up and down, round and round;
like a roller coaster.
The comedown is always painful. It is only natural, unfortunately.
Balance.
Yin and yang.
I wish you'd keep me distracted with your kisses, your love. Not always, only sometimes.
But you don't exist and yet, I do.
