به راه خود.

روزی به اندازه تمام زشتی‌های جهان به تو صادقانه خواهم گفت که زیبایی.

بعضی از کشورها جسد‌ مردگان رو آتش میزنن، مملکت ما این رو زشت می‌دونه پس زنده‌هارو آتش میزنه و همینجاست که برابری بین مرگ و زندگی شکل میگیره.

سرپناهش گفت: رفتم چون باید می‌ماندم.

سیگارت رو روشن کن و زندگیو رها کن؛ ما همه خسته‌ایم.

How did you get here? I'm drunk and confused, I tried to be patient with you, yeah, High up, but you fall back down

carry on, life flies, so just carry on With this pain inside of my chest Got no choice but to carry on.

"This morning I woke up so in love with you I didn’t know what to do with my body, which was far from yours… I don’t know how this happened. I just woke up one morning and you were the blood in all my poems." ——Clementine Von Radics, from In A Dream You Saw A Way To Survive; “The poet refuses to see what can be plainly seen”

Before we begin, I must warn you, nothing here is vegetarian.

اون زنه گفت پسرم این جاده‌ای به جهنم است

when words fail, music speaks.

There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it I have now surpassed. My pain is constant and sharp, and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape. But even after admitting this, there is no catharsis; my punishment continues to elude me, and I gain no deeper knowledge of myself. No new knowledge can be extracted from my telling. This confession has meant nothing.

we used to look up in the sky and wonder at our place in the stars, now, we just look down and worry about our place in the dirt.

I was thinking about who you are, Your delicate point of view.