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Nothing is what it seems. Nothing at all in fact. Nothing that you know or touch or feel if exactly the way you think it is. It knows it too. It enjoys the fact that people around it have no clue exactly what this person sees through their own eyes. Perhaps this thing has a optimistic front...to comfort others when this person knows deep down that there s not a chance in hell that they'll pull through unscathed. Perhaps this thing pretends to not conform to the crowd. To wear their own style, be their own person. Of course they secretly long to be the center of attention. Perhaps someone will say they don't need love. That their too young to have any sort of feelings for someone. When naturally their insides churn when they look into the eyes of the thing that they know haven't got an ounce of care in return for them.

nothing is what it seems


i hate this god damn holiday