sometimes i really hate that my head is working properly. i hate my rationality. i hate being sensible. i don't want to reason out something that wasn't meant to be offered an explanation. sometimes i feel like the little passion i show is playacting. but inside, it's cold. nothing can melt it. it can only be chopped up. and maybe if the blade moves fast enough it can begin to liquefy. but even then, it will still be ice-cold.
have i ever truly felt anything? i doubt it... maybe at the moment, i can make myself believe i feel it. but then take away the background image and the costumes and all the props, and it's back to.. normal? reality? without the lighting and the music, it's as if the emotions never existed. it's scary.
and maybe that's why i want to be around you. you give me feeling. even if they are pin pricks.
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