It has never been the love nor the hate that made it happen. It is always the indifference. The cold carelessness that can only have been raised on the vodka-belt. When you could as easily do with me as you could do without me. It hurts when you, yourself, have never been indifferent to anyone. It hurts when you try to make someone happy through your actions instead of words and all they give you is a mountain of words. When you’ve reached the top of that mountain you find nothing and realize it was all just empty words. You’re giving your time, your body, your beliefs, your dreams and your innermost precious and truest feelings to these empty shells of human beings that in the end – if you’re smart enough to recognize it – produce only empty words.
And that’s when you decide to make a run for it. And you pray to God that you don’t crash into another shell.
















































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