If someone asked me if I were crazy I’d say yes.
And if they asked me why did I think so, I’d say
“because I feel sorry for non existing characters and toothbrushes.
Is that enough or should I continue ?”
Funny thing about that word,
it’s like if it didn’t exist for them.
They never have enough.
They’re like vampires.
Never suck out all your blood,
just leave you in agony.
Conscious, with your hungry eyes wide open,
fully aware that they have taken all you had,
found every dark secret, every little glimpse of happiness you tried to protect.
Now you’re not crazy anymore, now you’re just a wrack.
And when your loud death rattle will fall silent,
when your soul will leave your empty, drugged body,
they’ll proudly say you’re cured.