Can’t I just make up my mind to feel the way I do when I tell the truth without actually telling the truth?
Hell doesn’t seem like a bad place. Can’t I stay a little longer?
I texted a million people this morning. I still feel lonely.
If I work hard and focus, I can get my life on track. I don’t need to actually tell the truth, do I?
I don’t need to face myself, right?
It’s her fault, isn’t it? It’s not my fault.
It’s not my fault, right?
Where’s the bottom of this fucking quicksand anyway.