the fuckedupness of life and the beauty of it

Cause it does exist, you know.
Something like a fucking freakshow
Like it adds sense to the whole thing
Not having something to worry about really fucks the head up
I’ve been there, I tried
Doesn’t work for me
I need some shit, some problems to solve
I need a bad girl, some drugs to revolve
I have a huge problem with tranquility
I feel alone when I’m stuck in it
But I feel alone all the time so what’s the difference anyway.
At least when I have something to care about
It seems like it cares about me too
Like it chases me
Like it wants to fuck me up
And I kinda let it
Just so I have something to fight
To fight back, to have a reason to do so
I’m a troublemaker, I’m a troubleseeker
Sometimes it feels I don’t even ever want to be ok
It gets BORING
It’s shit.
So I seek not for happiness
I seek for action
I seek for anything that makes me want to fight
And I dunno if it’s my fault if I only want to struggle
For what fucks the shit out of me.
More exiting, something like that.
I have no fucking idea
Cause my mind is all fucked up
And I somehow seem to like it.
Fucking masochist.
Just look at the kid, enjoying the pain of being in pain.
How fucked up are you anyway.





dessa vez fluiu mais fácil em inglês.