60 kg thoughts

Loneliness fear loneliness fear life tranquility my melancholy it flows my mind it blows up everyone around me like they were made of gold dust, boom, and they're all over the place, dust of gold, golden dust inside our lungs and our long long intestines, my blood is golden my golden heart is pumping my golden blood through my golden veins, it's all just dust at the end, who cares, golden or not. It's all dust at the end.
Why am I walking on this road without no end no signs no one but dark silhouettes passing by, oh hi, Kotryna, whatsup? You start answering but they're gone, no one listening to you or what you want to say, they just ask, without even wanting to hear your answer. It's all opinions, points of view, but who knows the truth, in this reality warped by fucked up mindsets that make no sense, you suddenly feel like all that makes sense is often out of your reach, so you grasp and catch the dust of knowledge, dust of reality, dust of love, it's so close, but out of reach, all you grasp are the leftovers of what you wished for so bad. I know what I want, but I do not know if I will want it tomorrow, so should I live for my wishes? My God, these days with cloudy sky make you forget that the sun even exists. No one's holding you, so you hold yourself. You help yourself get up. You reach out for your own hand, and you take your hand, you get up walking holding hands with yourself, having conversations with yourself, arguing with your own mind, you fight with yourself, you even fuck with yourself, and that's the best fuck you'll ever get. How many of me are there, which one of me is talking right now, which one of me is writing, which one of me, the good, the bad, the foolish, the horny, the lonely, the sad, the crying one, the one with a big smile, the smart one or the dumbass, the sensitive one or the egoist who chooses all but caring about others. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Your mind told you once that you're a bird, once you flew away, throwing diamonds to all those staring with their heads up, all those who have noticed you flying, spitting out shiny jewels, jewels that fell on their heads and poked their eyes. Then they all turned blind, and they see nothing, they carry diamonds in their eyes and the world seems a shiny pink sugar TV channel that tastes as good as your own mothers breast milk.