it's an oddity to view yourself as different to the common youth. we speak the same language, but we think a different one.
our intentions are never similar; some choose to throw confetti of pain while others suffer through it with a thoughtful wave.
these words never make sense to you. these words are coming from a time when my mind is vulnerable and the stormy weather is at its peak.
i'm screaming. but so beautifully.
i have many names. most of them are evil. a few i don't yet know of. i'm still on a quest to find my own name for myself. what do you call me?
