I sit alone in my room thinking how nobody loves me.and that I'm nothing but the hollowed out husk of a junkie. I see myself in the page and think "I'm so fucking ugly " that's why inspiration won't even touch me. I write for hours and hours try to make it powerful and touching, and when I think I'm done and I made it into something. I look down at my page and I see a page full of nothing. so I erased every trace of this face that disgust me. rage is erupting. I engage my pain in combat. you make think that you are strange but I am way far beyond that, I live my life in a haze. you getting faded on contact.iike in infinity gauntlet.