Sometimes I wonder why I write
Maybe because I can’t do anything right
I’m an asshole with will to change
But something stops me: I’m the same.
I like who I am, other people don’t
I like playing stupid, other people won’t
I hate my pain for what they feel,
Can’t sleep at night cause I ain’t real.
If I change myself to please them,
I won’t be able to look at the mirror.
If I just stay the way I am
I’ll live alone and bitter…
Don’t want to vanish to escape
Cause to feel, to exist,
It’s better than nothing at all…