So yeah.

Turn it on. Show yourself.
I can´t imagine something better than doing everything in the wrong way from time to time. It´s release. A few days, and even a few hours of freedom and carelessness is the least we owe ourselves. But self-awareness is a bitch.
My hands are dirty, they´re filled with cigarrette burns and stains. And I like them that way. I run on coffee and cigarrettes. One pack and six cups a day. Often more, never less.
My thoughts are cloudy, they wander. Throughout, above and under. And I like them that way. I´m restless, and I can´t help but tapping, a made up beat that only makes sense in my head, on any piece of furniture within my reach.
My habits are annoying, unhealthy, and hard to break. And for the hell of me, I won´t break them.
My dirty hands are my own to shackle.



Still self-awareness is a bitch.