You wanna know how I got these scars?

My father was a drinker....and a fiend.... and one night he goes off crazier than usual. Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself. He doesn’t like that, not one bit. So, me watching he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it. He turns to me and he says “WHY SO SERIOUS SON?”. He comes at me with the knife “why so serious son?” Sticks the blade in my mouth lets put a smile on that face and….. why so serious

i'm slipping away so unconsciously, losing more and more of my humanity. whatever little i already had. i feel so distraught, it's amazing how moody i'm becoming, swinging in and out of horrible low mood spells. The a levels are amazing, the damning stress you place on people. i'm treading such a thin line now, losing my beliefs, losing my goal. why the fuck am i doing this? why am i condemned to be so miserable? am i seeking it? is it seeking me? how easily the building collapses when the supports are all gone. support? what support where? they always talk about how they found real true friends in church? where have mine gone? where they even there in the first place? like nothing else really annoys people more than the amount of question marks i can put into a paragraph.

oh despair, despair, thou art a witty creature, ensaring me for years long past, and now you rob me of all tiny glimpses of hope dost thee. i can't remember a time in the last 6 months where i was actually happy. ya eka, you should be scared when i'm unleashed upon society, havok and chaos will reign. i don't fucking care. apathy, maybe that's what i really need, true apathy. a fucking truckload of it. who wallows in self-pity anyway. we should all just me machines, trudge forward day by day, with the boring speeches they play.

a warring affair, these here days.
they do not last.