The escape i longed seems impossible and i wonder is it even sensible? I dream of place of peace to rest my head upon a cotton felt pillow. A land that glows with sunshine light, music playing all day and night. You know the type that makes a nigguh think and move at the same time, make him wanna reach that climb. Silence aches my mental, stability isn’t within my physical, I still seek my call. Don’t even know my weakness, nor do I know my strength, sadness tainted my heart. Who cares I asked myself, careless me is myself, weed has become my best-friend, alcohol is now my shrink and clubs is my living room. The people I know don’t know me because I couldn’t explain me even if i try. Quarter-life crisis.