"alcohol evaporate the fakeness. What does fake mean, everything is bulshit everyone has this stupid movie playing in the back of there heads about what life should be like and tries to fallow it, thats fake too."
Dear Malfuntion. Yeah. Seems to me no one here knows what fake really means. Yeah, alcohol is the instant fake-go away, and if you follow your heart and emotions, nah mang. There isn’t a movie to follow there, only yourself. With that, you’ve made me discover a few things. If there is no movie behind the music, then the heart moves forward, blind and self-enlightening. The motive is to stay true. When alcohol dissolves the habits of fakery, what then, in the case of one who is left with a self more honest and loving than in another other sober state of mind. Has the lying come so deep that it is self? Than what then. Is that the essence of truth then? Shouldn’t the truth always hurt inside? Nein, sah. I’d still lie to stay true to smiles and love and care, even if this world WAS opposite land. I’ll be the stagnant sally sanctioned in sunshine city.
Truth is, I feel so boring “un-pretending”. I need meaning. I strive for meaning and I am SO COMPACTED WITH FEELINGS THAT I NEED TO ASPIRE TO AQUIRE ALTERNATE METHODS TO EXPRESS ALL THAT IS IN ME. I AM A FIRE. LET ME FEEL, LET ME BURN. I am what is…. I do not intend to be anything other than myself. I have had this problem before, of… “what am I really doing? why is it this way?” Is it copying? Isn’t that un-creative? Nah. I’m effecient…. beetch. I let that slide as my virgo side. I use other sources to inspire me and I suppose that’s my way, and that’s okay! I’m real. I’m as real as I want to be, because I know exactly why I am that at that time. Usually. In most cases. Sometimes. Hehe. I can’t control anything. xD I guess, that’s real. WOO. Everything is real. Everything. Is. Real.