I had a feeling (that was only once) that my life had meaning. But that doesn't mean too much. I was going places then I never left. Reciting phrases that I never meant. I found myself then I threw it away. Living in hell is a lot like today. I changed my mind (but I can't spare change) and what I was trying to find, but it still found me. I need room to breathe. Can you give that to me? Begin descension. Begin the end.