Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers.

Every once in a while you forget who you are completely. You disappear into fragments of who you once were. The stories you’ve told a hundred times, become the stories you desperately run away from. How wise it would be to leave all the madness behind. Watch the world through someone else’s eyes. Disappear completely, to find yourself again.

Madness in all it’s crazy glory.

You want to rid yourself of your old life. Cut out the toxic nonsense and burn all the photographs. Take everything you once believed to be pure and throw it all away. Bury it completely. Claw your skin until everything is out underneath. Start over. New people, new faces, new skin, anything then what is in front you. Run toward the largest city and disappear into the crowds, anything to runaway from these feelings. The regret, the desperation and even the sadness that is occupied by the countless madness talks.

We’re all going mad.

What made life something to which we run away from? What made these crazy thoughts worth our time? Disappearing to hide from the desperation of reality. The fools that made you believe, the broken hearted corpses you can’t help but attach yourself to. We were young, we were foolish, and deep down we can’t help believing. You give everything away to feel better. Hoping that in the end you will be fine. We are all the little broken inside. We are all going a little mad. Catching glimpses of our former selves in pieces of people that we used to know.

It takes more then a day to rid ourselves of these feelings. Is it ever really over? Is it ever really forgotten? Here I go with all my feelings and letting go. Everything and everyone.

Gone.

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