Something's been going on.
I can't tell who, what, where, why.
I see someone, but they don't see me.
They don't see me.
Years go by and I still don't have my self on.
The closest you can get is when I don't have my cellphone.
12, 1, 2
I can't seem to sleep when I want to.
I guess when you have a hyperactive imagination,
you tend to take it out on, say, a notebook.
Until, say, 2 AM.
On a school night to boot.
I own a pair of boots.
They're steel-toed and heavy.
There are more boots.
These boots hang heavy on the hearts of my family.
These boots bring a loss.
A loss of another.
However, these boots make us stronger.
These boots will stay until the end.
Boots in hand, you can see me better.
This pair of metaphorical boots,
(not the steel-toed those are real,)
drags me down to show me.
I see two entities,
like a Gollum 1-2 showdown,
face-to-face Daft Punk style.
Why can't I do homework now?
Let's eat lunch.
I want to read a book for a while.
I'll feed my fish.
Why can't I do homework later?
I think I'll just cram my homework.
I feel like playing video games for a few hours.
I'll feed my fish later.
Yes indeed, even my fish have suffered in this conflict.
Paco and Taco have died.
A tiny pair of boots hang on tight.
Oh, woe is me.
I wish I could be with the mighty gyarados and its mother.
I wish I had spent more time.
I was too unhinged.
She's happy now.
I'm happy because she is.
Tell me, what's Breaking Bad like?