this is my eternal reprise the songs of early april the chirps of early birds with morning fog in my brain i can't hear them at all i walk up and down the same roads every single day has started to feel the same i dont want to wake up or go outside, oh please i dont really wanna be here i dont want to (oh whatever) i wanted to move so fast now i wanna stop dead in my tracks i wish i could be done with it i guess ill just go the long way round they want me to look happy so ill just bite my tongue and smile i feel destringed i feel as if i had no voice if this doesnt kill me itll just leave me wounded i really need to grow but how can i here on my own its something i dont want to but really i know i have to new year same shame for not dealing with what im afraid when im walking down the street i feel danger right behind me i cant fear what i cant hear ill shatter my eardrums but i wont fear i cant fear what i can see if i stare at the sky theres nothing in front of me ill hide behind these lyrics of songs i made when i was 17 i dont want to wake up or go outside, oh please i dont really wanna be here i want to feel as if im asleep

i cannot escape the fate that i await so this is where ill wait at the end of my teenage the food i ate no longer tastes the same the good i hated no longer tasted the same the winter is ending and the days are getting longer but we just get more time to waste the seconds slip away out my fingers and my hands i thought id have more time to waste but time just moves so fast and ive got to decide the directions i will go in what genre do i wanna be alone the event, horizon of adulthood looming over my teenage self the mouth, agape of leviathan getting ready to swallow me whole youre on a tiny paper barge and yoiure scared of leviathan who for you awaiuts but you dont dare take the plunge but the boat's sinking either way so what do you do now do you brace yourself or do you cherish the moment im gazing at my future through a foggy windshield and i cant see the trucks blinding lights right in front of me to be hit by one would be a stroke of luck (im just a deer in headlights) but time just moves so fast and ive got to decide the directions i will go in what genre do i wanna be alone the event, horizon of adulthood looming over my teenage self the bright, lights of a truck headed just my way flee the town, look at you, wasnt that easy to do flee the town, look at you, please just tell me what to do the event, horizon of adulthood looming over my teenage self the mouth, agape of leviathan getting ready to swallow me whole

i will keep the world at arms length i can handle it on my own why should i burden you with my thoughts when i can just talk myself (you dont know me) my eyes they fail to meet theirs but who really cares i dont think youd like me any better if you truly knew who i am well many times i do speak but it feels like you arent listening whenever im invited to stuff id rather be alone even when we're all together i feel no joy at all im just up in my head a pensar que fiz algo mal ive been told im smiling much more i guess ive gotten at pretending you dont know me, though you can call me john doe (you dont know me) my eyes they fail to meet theirs but who really cares i dont think youd like me any better if you truly knew who i am well many times i do speak but it feels like you arent listening whenever im invited to stuff id rather be alone

no, i i dont wanna talk especially now leave me alone im so good at vanishing no reason to linger round (but thats okay) ill sit here quietly so dont mind me i wanna find a hidden place where i can hardly feel my breath they, play like happy puppies but i couldnt care any less im living as a timid black cat no reason to linger round (but thats okay) ill sit here quietly so dont mind me i wanna find a hidden place i dont wanna try to fit in i will slip away as it seems i will never properly communicate

i used to fall and cry flinching at someone just was holding up their arm i soon realized we're just bags of blood and were set to burst so i always feared the worst even if it wasnt serious you could bet on my tears to make giant storms in small paper cups the one thing i could count on was my father telling me stop being a sissy son" you bleed yourself out something to write a sad song about you used to fall cry but you dont even get bruises anymore now im careful with my steps i barely even fall now i just create walls timid full of self defense paired with a demeanor and a resting bitch face now im close to adulthood but in reality im a lonely touch starved child trying to pretend they're not you bleed yourself out something to write a sad song about you used to fall cry but you dont even get bruises anymore now i explore fake sorrows im to careful to even experience in the form of long for msongs emotionally fraudulent works of art these walls are umbrelas for my feelings but if i walk alone in the rain the sky will do the crying for me in reciprocity (epic guitar solo)

everything i do ends up being mediocre so by the time it starts, i feel like its already over theres nothing more worthless than teenage poetry these words dont mean very much (is that okay with you) i write down what i hide "im sad well" thats easy to say i just wish i had more metaphors to convey when i scribble some lines, they never take any shape when i look at my poems i feel disapointment and hate i can settle for second best in a one man competition against my own inneptitude i keep trying and trying but i can never figure the proportions out at this point i just wanna get this out it feels like playing jigsaw with pieces i dont have i am not a poet, im just a boy holding a pen i wanna communicate how hard this is for me creating metaphors analogies for my human condition so here im left to depict an archetypal failed artist

a triangle flowing in non euclydian motion (os vertices ad nauseam) it treads through my dreams, plaguing me i am responsive but not awake as concepts become things polygons upon polygons an incomprehensible cosmic aparatus and it weighs down on me (it weighs ad nauseam) november night i can feel the nausea of an entire lifetime downing on me in the next moment - but it never comes i feel so hot i cant go to sleep blankets weight me down to the bottom of the sea (it burns ad nauseam) i can feel the accumulated pressure my ear bursts as my throat floods with salty waters (body horror ad nauseam) i am half alive and it aches like jolts of pain and freezing cold weighing down on me ill forget to breathe (i cannot breathe ad nauseam) i feel like if i go to sleep now, im going to die ill choke on my spit and die as i eat into my own lungs i can feel the walls of my throat cave in - suffocation i am half alive and it aches like jolts of pain and freezing cold weighing down on me (whines ad nauseam) the detestable feeling of my body failing me fearing a self destruct whatever my mind thinks is the new culprit to my encroathing demise tonights autodiagnosed ailment that isnt probable, but just likely enough an anxiety-born anxiety birther corporal punishment for my worries fleeting thoughts, premonitions of death body horror

the midnight blues dark thoughts your mind conjured you cast your hook too far now you cant reel it back (something went wrong ad nauseam) it came to a point you could only hear the waves crashing in your head and nobody could hear you drifting away did you feel the ocean breeze what was it like feeling the waves crashing (on you) you let yourself fall to the sea drowned by awful memories now creatures feed on your flesh at the bottom of the sea i dont know how many times youve drowned in my head so to say "i miss you" i wrote you this tune you have no fins you have no ends

i find a confort in the cold but im shivering too much i never had anyone to warm me up so now im taking off alone my cold hands my solemn demise my cold breath a winterborn forest fire my frigid hands they shatter and break at your touch the cold hits my skin the cold heats my skin the clouds of smoke out my ragged breath they stop coming out like a stomped out cigarette im used to the cold now its getting harder to lift my feet off the ground and every step is getting harder i love the way the wind blows like a wall of noise making me deaf there's this thing about people they never run out of excuses to smile but im going far away and you wont see me for a little while i've always felt like shit i could never find a reason to smile if only just to fake it but you wont see me for a good while the wind's gone silent things have gotten bleak no water to even weep i feel stinging dots in my face from shaving cuts and waiting for this fade for weeks i havent had a day where i didnt get midnight feeling sad i watch cats play around they're more interesting than us they dont feel shame or empathy or any other human complex this world is painfully saturated for someone as bleak as me raindrops fall right on top of me fog so thick i cant even see mood's so fucked its black as ink brainfogs so thick i cant even think am i old enough for melancholy i have what i want but not what i need there's this thing about people they never run out of excuses to smile but im going far away and you wont see me for a little while i've always felt like shit i could never find a reason to smile if only just to fake it but you wont see me for a good while im a lone penguin running through an arctic tundra im not home to the light at the end of the tunnel's dim how much longer can you run your footsteps sound in the snow how much longer can you run how much longer can you run x2 i know it hurts but you just have to take the next step (ad infinitum) [is there such thing as insanity among penguins i try to avoid the definition of insanity or derangement i dont mean that a penguin might believe he or she is lenin or napoleon bonaparte but could they just go crazy because they had enough of their colony (...) uhh, well, ive never seen a penguin bashing its head against a rock uhm, they do get disoriented - they end up in places they shouldnt be in, a long way from the ocean (...) these penguins are all heading to the open water to the right but one of them caught our eye, the one in the centre who would neither go torwards the feeding grounds at the edge of the ice nor return to the colony shortly afterwards, we saw him headed straight for the mountains some 70km away (...) stand still and let him go on his way (...) he is heading towards certain death] they want an encore but i think i'm ready to leave