Still enough time to figure out how to chase my blues away
Images
I was good at feeling nothing
Lovers who want mirrors, not equals
It’s a fascination of mine
Sex finds us out. Sex sees through us, that’s why it’s so shattering, it strips us of apperances
Nameless machines
Why something and not nothing?
Is my value based only on your perception?
Do you know me?
It’s fucking complex
