The waiting, the waiting, the fucking waiting-- Feeling like I'm stuck up on a shelf, waiting for someone to take me down, whisper "hello" and tell me who I am.
Because I can't stand the nothingness. I despise the empty moments. I wrestle to feel at rest, but I am nothing too.
I feel like every moment is the end and there's no life ahead and I'm stuck roasting in time, only to be eaten by a future with more nothingness.