If you're broken inside, what do you do?
If you've lost the will to live, what do you do?
If you're peeling out the splinters one by one, tearing open your skin, and watching your fingers bleed...
Is there something wrong?

Because I'd like to know.
Because I'm not broken inside, but I know I am.
Because I haven't lost the will to live, I've gained the will to die.
Because I'm peeling the splinters out of my skin. Because I'm tearing myself open. Because I'm watching myself bleed.
You know I want to know.

I dreamed. I hoped.
I want to achieve what isn't expected of me.
But it seems, everything that's expected of me, are good things.
And I can only show the bad.

I want to re-live something.
I want to have it.
I want to feel like how the book tells me to.
But alas,
I've already done that.
I've already gone there.
I've already lived that.
I'm only waiting to die again.

You wanna try to tell me otherwise?

You know, she's so... stupid.
She judges. She thinks she's so right.
Yet. She wastes. Yet. She doesn't understand people.

Her eyes aren't open.
If becoming an adult means, becoming blinded and not understanding,
If becoming strong means naivety and being non-accepting,
I don't want to be her.
That's bullshit.

海