I found what I was looking for . . . I found that what I was looking for, wasn't looking for me . . . I don't know what I'm looking for anymore. Eyes closed, as I'm abused for opening them. Truth be told but no ones listening. I don't feel bad that I won't miss this place and this time and this hell that is this life in the shadow of logic. Sadness is all that's really true in a broken world. The thrill is in the instant, and the instant doesn't prove commitment. Commitment talks in a calm voice. Through all of the noise and chaos, should I be grateful that you noticed, or heartbroken that you're lost? I found what I was looking for is gone . . . no thrill of the chase, when being chased off. Not it is more fun to say than single . . . so is I'm not the one, one leaf c-lover, loves' abomination, the creator of my space, and curator of everything . . . maybe I'll find more meaning in being alone than stringing together words, since being together has never worked. First, find what you're looking for, try your best . . . and when that doesn't go so well, count the seconds stuck in your hell. I found what I was looking for, and it's my fault I fell, I feel, I dwell upon the hell I've created . . . I'm so glad I waited so long for this; I found what I was looking for wasn't worth it.
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