bad days allow me to think.

people say i'm a great listener. i thought i was. but now i find myself doing all the talking. i want the old days back.
i cried so much that my pillow became a river. not sure if it is the right thing to say. but i woke up terrified.
my psychologist said i should come over more often. the thing is i don't have a psychologist. probably i should get one.
i want my old casio back. i changed my hair. i look weirder now.
i want to give you space. all the space you want. i just don't want you to go away.
have you ever thought about how you're gonna die? i think a lot about that. the funny thing is each of us secretly believe that it's not gonna happen to us.
i'm getting older. people say i'm not. like compared to what? okay, maybe i'm not when compared to a cell phone. (pause) i'm scared.
write me a song. my own song. just a few words. okay, a letter sounds great.
one way or another we all lost people. sometimes things didn't go the way we expected
to. then came the point we accepted them. acceptance is important and underrated.
my mum doesn't call me anymore. and she's right. even though nothing is clear in my world.

... what about me?