When I sleep I have people I've never met before tell me how I'm feeling.
They say, you're not really happy doing what you're doing.
I tell them, I'm screwed. Everything I love doing I hate when it's a job.
I hate how I feel when I'm just going through the motions.. just to get paid.
The people in my dreams say, what are you waiting for?
I tell them, money.
Money is what I'm waiting for.
And then I wake up and it's clear it is the most ridiculous thing.
But.. is it?
I can fill out those forms too.
But then, I can always wander into the darkness of the night and never return.
I can sit in the mountains of the world and get eaten by mosquitos and suffer from the horrible death of Dengue and starvation.
I wonder...
You know how I know I'm partly crazy and partly sane? Partly alive?
Is that I don't care if I'm here or there, or dying or alive.
It's all the fucking same. Everywhere.
I don't care about anything. Everything is nothing.
These words, they don't mean shit.
How could it matter?
What is better than silence? Love.
I love a lot. I can love in silence.
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True Love is Unconditional.