There's no time
At 7:24 p.m. on 12 March, 2007, Tiragem wrote...
There is an overwhelming need to be creative. Because there is an overwhelming feeling of latent melancholy. Yet it is sitting heavily in my chest, because the time to channel it constantly eludes me. I have no time to paint. I have no time to write. I have time only to work, to study, and to maintain sufficient relations with my friends.
It's building up. My actions in the past few months have only pointed at my emotional instability, and I do not forsee anything occurring in the future that will do anything to reverse my present state of being.
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Tiragem
Hush.
I will tell you everything.
Everything, but one.
Look.
I'll show you everything.
Everything, but one.
Don't make me say it.
Don't make me show it.
You are opening my mouth to lies.
You are assisting me in suicide.
I'll deaden my tongue to the lies.
I'll deaden my soul to the façade.
And when I'm dead, my face and name will be little but false advertisements for a soul I don't have.
For a soul I never had.