Most people won't even bother to understand what I say, or what I think, a lobotomized, sterile society, full of false laughter, feathers and color, lots of color and glitter.
Behind the mask lies the true face of the monster, making another stripe to continue flying in a fake world, with a bunch of fake people that I can't stand, in this absurd party, instead of establishing a sincere, real, authentic bond.
It is a loss of collective consciousness, an intellectual suicide, when only peace calms me, only a sincere kiss relieves me of that I don't know what that eats away at me. But instead there is nothing, only emptiness, an intense and dark emptiness behind the laughter.