Out Of The Ash I Rise With

I Have Taken A Pill To Kill The Thin Papery Feeling.

People Or Stars Regard Me Sadly, I Disappoint Them.

And You Grit Your Teeth, Despising Yourself For Your Tremulous Sensitivity, And Wondering How Human Beings Can Suffer Their Individualities To Be Mercilessly Crushed Under A Machinelike Dictatorship, Be It Of Industry, State Or Organization, All Their Lives Long.

The More Hopeless You Were, The Further Away They Hid You.

I Feel Self-repressed Again. The Old Fall Disease. Where Is My Willpower? The Idea Of A Life Gets In The Way Of My Life...i Dream Too Much, Work Too Little.