i'd rather die of an overdose of happiness

so what the hell was that?
was life trying to move literally/
like when everyone picks up someone else's lighter, and moves it to a new spot
[i'm so scared]
the game never ends - and we just keep getting more fucked up
and you'll wake up the next day and not remember a goddamned thing
and it's so not surprising anymore that you just shrug/
and ignore the looks on their faces
it's almost like -
if you didn't remember it, then it didn't happen.
/similar to being invisible when you take off your glasses.
/similar to an alzheimer's patient making up a new reality.
[move backwards ten spaces]
it's like a band of fucking brits, walking into your apartment, knocking over the ashtrays,
and complaining that your beer doesn't taste any good
[they make up their own rules and write them all over your versions]
and when everyone leaves, it looks like a hotel room
the day after new year's...