Sometimes, I don't even know what's going on with me. You see, I'm still doing this. Writing small bits of everything that goes on in my mind. I don't really know why I'm doing it. Maybe to help me find out the process of my thoughts through my years. Maybe, it's because I kind of hope someone will eventually find out.
Now the cities we live in could be distant stars. But I search for you in every passing car.
I guess when I repeat things over and over it seems that it's really happenning to me.
Maybe I'm only fake.