I really want to write a song but I can't get all of the thoughts straight in my head and my eardums are about to burst from the pressure of this contaminated silence;

I need to get this out of me.

But I can't because my way with words that I still don't know if I possess has deserted me and all I have left to hold on to is the madness, my thoughts whirlpooling through my mind at a million miles an hour, so fast the ragged ocean of what is now left of my life is tossing and turning and tipping, and making me seasick.

I can't breathe. I haven't slept enough in days because when I shut my eyes they become prison bars and everything in my brain is so frightening that I just have to open them for fear I might be trapped in there forever. Screaming. I can't think straight because everything is a mess, I think my mind has finally become affected by the amount of caffeine I pour down my throat in the place of motivation.

I feel so ill.
I feel like crying but I think I've been holding everything in for so long that my tear ducts have dried up. I have lost the ability to appreciate pain.

I haven't felt at home in so long because I have had my eyes opened in the worst way possible to the fact that my parents are not parents at all. And I don't know if I can find it in me to love them anymore. I find myself lying to them on a daily basis, every time the words 'I love you' come wheeling my way I have to arrange my face and spit a lie back at them, 'I love you too.'

I am so afraid.

I am so frightened that I am never going to be able to leave this town, that I am going to be stuck here with my fucking parents for the rest of my god damned miserable life. I am afraid that everything I dreamed up for myself in my childhood innocence will all become just that, a dream.

Look up at the sky, because the pigs are flying. Flying away. Right now, they are the only things that will ever make it out of this shit hole alive.

It's get out or die trying.

Fuzz xx