The rhythm of premeditated harm Blacking out before the damage is done Finding comfort in disgust I'm backwards, I'm fucked I'm here but my mind is gone Too much is never enough Push the threshold Pleasure never fills up Gluttony is a rumor The need is real The coping is redundant But it helps me feel Is that you, on the other side of the glass? (Of the glass) Am I facing divinity or apparitions of the past? (Of the past) Melting away The glass screen shines on my face Everything I am My eyes strain to recognize this reflection So far from perfection Self-indulgent perception Infatuated with self (the noise of my thoughts start playing their song) If I write the script, I will only eat my words (and dry heave on self-sabotage) Okay, let's see, I guess that I'm confused again Am I here, or am I there? I don't know Over there, I'm everywhere, I know that But here is connected to over there, is that right? But then, where is the real me after all is said and done? Oh, there is no real me, I guess that's it I only exist inside those people aware of my existence But what about this me that I can hear talking right here and now? It's me, isn't it?