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1:18 i found my life was slipping through my hands. perhaps through death, my life won't be so bad.

i'm born again with snake's eyes, becoming God-size.

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a long time ago i never knew myself, then the memory of shame birthed its gift. no more the small one, the weak one, the frightened one running from beatings, deflating. i'm becoming more than a man, more than you ever were, driven and burning to rise beyond Jesus.

قبلا گفتم، باز هم میگم، تا زمانی که اتاق من رو مورد هدف قرار ندید، باور نمیکنم جنگه.

کاش یک وایتِ بی‌دغدغه بودم که از شدتِ خوشحالیِ پذیرشِ ویزای ایرانش به گریه افتاده، اما متاسفانه یک خاورمیانه‌اییِ بدبخت هستم که هر لحظه منتظر ویزای اون دنیاشه.

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today, i'm serving can't.

it feels like sometimes i live my life with my foot halfway through the door, waiting for someone in the room to ask me to leave.

i sleep only to wake up after dreaming about my problems that i slept to escape from them.

i am in a prison of my own making that i cannot escape from.

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i love redoing my mistakes again and again.

lie to me, make me see.

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let it out, tell me what you want me to hear. push it out, tell me that you still want me here.
deep inside this hole, i will offer you my soul, waiting, hoping with each breath that you will leave it in my chest.

maybe i've died when i was 14 and this is the hell they were talking about in their books.

adult life is nothing but daydreaming while you're working your ass off to survive another day.

whenever i realize that i'm not imagining all of this and this is actually my life, my chest gets heavy and breathing seems impossible.

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