Freedom is great but leaves your hands grasping emptiness. Whiskey is sweet but devours every inch of your being.That burn left on my skin is never quite satisfying. Heartlessness is a treacherous slope sliding backwards, but heartache is another word for "going ahead".
The weight of those carefully calculated words and actions telling you that nothing means nothing are burning, spinning and imploding inside me. You pretend they mean nothing, but that makes you an easier prey when loneliness descends like a moth fluttering in the hollows.
How many times can someone play these self-damaging games until they become nothing themselves. Life means nothing, emotions mean nothing and we are all becoming nothing but mere beings driven by immediate ego boost and satisfaction, and nothing really matters anymore.