Happy bunch

I'm starting to have memories. No, i mean every day. I'm starting to need you. Flashbacks have me turned upside down. They keep crawling from dark corners or white lights, always from the extremes. Yesterday i felt i remained out of air. Today they started again, they want to push me out the window. But I can't find you guys there. And it hurts so much deeper.
The glass would shatter though. I would fall. If only you'd catch me. Say you'll catch me one more time...

It was a pretty good year. Nice summer, torn from the happy bunch. Can we get back in? I don't need to get back in. You don't, either. Bad influences, good times...we want to get back it. Our lives don't need it. We don't need it. It's not a necessity, but a choice. And what a choice this one is...

It was a pretty good year. They will say you had been something in those formative years. What will come of us? I want to be something and I hate myself for that.

I was thinking...i want another one. Just this last one. I want another fix.

Why don't i talk to her?

Why do i need this last fix? Cause it will be so fucking addictive.

How's life?

I don't want people to ask me "how was life?"

I want people to fuck my brains out to pride's death and never really touch me.

Loneliness is within me.

PJ Harvey sings so much more violently than you'd expect.

Portishead is much more relaxing that i thought.

And the dude is much more closer than before.23.

But the dudess is not with me anymore. I've failed her. Somewhat, just a little, a tiny bit. Admit it. And it's good, because i care. I'm not a heartless pimple. My blades are tearing me apart, but it hurts me when they tear others. Such as you. And a few others, one handful of good men. Good men that will fight and win this endless night through.

And in the morning they shall raise three flags of victor!