Home alone

I was home alone. And so I felt. Home alone... What's this stupid fear you're wearing? Fear to nothing... Back to the old days, you ask? There's no reason to. So what's all these gray clouds around you? I ask again, what's with this stupid fear you're wearing? I wish I knew sometimes. 'Cause yeah, I don't always know what's with me. Especially in these types of emotions. Now what?

Fuck, I don't even know what to write... I don't want to listen to music, I don't want to read that sick, masochistic novel; I don't feel like writing a song or playing guitar... What do I feel like? Maybe smoking a cigarette would ease up all of this weariness... But I made a promise... So now, what's left for me? What the fuck is going on inside me?