eulogyapology breygris i hate hearing myself breathe, it's so pointless. one, two, one, two. breathe in, breathe out, i've tried to stop but for all they tell me i'm not here, i know YOU'RE here and that's enough to keep me, dammit. but it's just another game because here we are, but only one breath is in this room. seperate minds in seperate lives. thank god, and fuck god because now i'm only convinced i'm alive because i'm still bleeding. but the tendrils are still managing to drag you down with me, and god, god, god, i'm so sorry. i know what i have to do, but i don't think i could bear to have you hate me. i just cant believe what i've done to everyone. i just cant believe this is my life. i need somewhere to go. someone to be. i need to get the fuck out of my head. but i dont really know. i dont know. it's too hard to concentrate on anything when the only image distinguishable from the static in my head is something i cant have, you you you. i love you too much to just stand by as you get caught in this goddamn contagious rot of mine and drown. but i dont know what to do, i dont even know what to feel. dont let me take the wheel. i have that feeling you get right before you're about to cry; i've had it since about noon. i think sometimes it has something to do with you. wracked with guilt of raping your life, you could've had a good life. contagious rot, fucking goddamn tornado disorder. if only someone would pry you from my cold dead hands. god knows everyone is doing their best to keep us apart, but you're still the greatest silhouette in this fucking stale blinding place, and i can still feel you there. and i'm convinced that you're breathing. i'm breathing with you, and its almost pathetic but i think i'm breathing for you. this is unhealthy for both of us, but i got you into this. oh, goddamn. if i'd just gone to a different school in the first place. we may never have even met. then maybe i'd be dead. oh, god. but let's not waste our dreams on If Onlys. for now i'll dream you up a better world, and me and my nightmares, well... we're out of here. 040212 what's it to you? who go blather from