No clue

There’s an emptiness echoing inside of me.

There’s a buch of lies to keep me going.

I don’t know what i want anymore.

I don’t know if i want to be loved anymore.

I have to be “da bomb” until tomb.

I Cheat on myself and Crow over my accomplishment. And whole of me knows that i am the only one who is doing all that is and will be. And certainly i don’t know, who the fuck i am anymore. I don’t seem to have anything to write about and i call myself a fucking writer.

Keeping my head held high, i carry this i don’t give a fuck perceptive, While i fucking have no idea what to do with my life anymore, how to go ahead, while not been getting caught in the moment. I am doubting it all and the whole universe.

I’m not pretentious, joker or dull.

I let you have your moment because i’m the son of a gun whose life has no fucking meaning anymore.

HELP!!!

SAVE ME!!!

Love has fucked me more times then whiskey and weed.

To all i’m keeping it all together.

Instead, screaming for help from beneath.

I don’t know if i want to be saved anymore.

Because i’ve loved, fucked and Been all over and reached every heart i met. Aspired and inspired.

But i don’t know what to write about other then my raw emotions and tainted, fucked up thoughts.

Weird creepy dreams and a black cock that needs to be warm. But i’m a sucker of love and happy endings. Whether be it with one for a life time or countless others. My heart breaks everytime they go in other direction.

I don’t know or i don’t wanna know, that there’s one for everyone. Soulmate to be specific.

PLEASE!!

SAVE ME!!

I hope nobody has to go through this feeling.

It’s not beautiful. It’s painful, unspeakable, profound stage of life. My fucked up mind has broken many relations more times then synonyms of word broken itself.

I’m my own wrost enemy. No,it’s not cool at all

It’s eating me from the inside day by day and all i can do is laugh till it hurts and some more just to be sure while i tell my self “You’re not crazy.”

I don’t know what to feel anymore and it keep on piling up

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck……

Love fucks me up for a real long time and when i try to get out of that, another woman prepared to save me and also prepared to destroy me.

I just don’t want to stand still.

Almost killed my self the last time i did that.

I don’t like to be a cheesy motherfucker,

that’s not my beat. i am real and that’s no where near good as it sounds. To them i’m rude, arrogant and disorganised thoughts wonder.

You must be someone else.

I keep on asking for help but only i can help myself.

I need to learn how to write. In order to do so i need to read.

“So, read you fucking nut-case.” That’s my inner conscience talking by the way.

But in order to do so, i need to live the life.

“Son of a bitch, You know it and keep on asking.”

You see what i’m talking about.

I fucking have no clue. I literally have no clue.

Motherfucker.