Since I've never been afraid to say what's on my mind at any given time of day, I end up in a position to talk to you and you listen by your own volition.
But there's an interference in your head that's saying you shouldn't hear it. "Who writes these crazy, stupid, straight-up insane stories?"
You view me as a drug addict like you didn't experiment? That's when you get defensive and tell me it ain't the same! I did it for the pain.
But why are you getting angry at me? I'm not the one to blame. We had different reasons. I'm the only one being real with you, It's up to you if you want to feel the words I write and relate to it or just skim through it.
Don't get all embarrassed, I've got better things to do than to make you look stupid. If you don't want to read what I write, I won't put up a fight, so.
Let's move on and enjoy the fucking night.