he has gone insane and his pulse is making him aware of that. his cries of pleasure mixed with pain and disturbed despair echoes in this room, much too small to his taste. he's suffocating, reaching for help, needing air in his lungs. praying this non-existant god that everyone talks about or whatever his name is to keep him alive, or to just erase completely his existence from earth, because he can't take this anymore. he can't bear the pain and wrap his guilt under his skin anymore. he don't have the guts to do that. he don't have him, he don't have her, he don't have those pitiful and thirstypets that would kill themselves just to have the chance to fuck his dick, they would sell their boring lives just to suck his balls. and he doesn't have this liquor that screams heaven everytime he lick her with the tip of his sinful tongue, wishing to taste her bitter flavour. he doesn't have any support beside his beloved drugs that make him go crazy ; they could bring light in his life. he don't. i'm insane. i'm insane. i'm insane. i'm insane. i'm insane. i'm insane. i'm insane so fucking insane. i'm insane. i'm insane. i'm insane. i'm insane. i'm insane. i'm done.