In this moment, I prefer non-existence than existence with existentialism.
In informality terms, yet not at all mundane; I'd prefer to die now rather than to live and fuck up.
For I don't believe it'll stop, or I could ever be one of the Belonged.
Cynical, it is, that I was the One to live in such ways that isolate whomever I lived to forget
Beloved friend I could never be - such a thing blue eyes can't bare to see
I miss you, and everything now
I'm in the black again, can't make it back again
From everything now.