but you wont

there must be sometime wrong with me because it means nothing without the words

so you can hear me, i will make translation, but now you can't. Can't listen.

I'm playing with my self, my emotions, selfishly bringing an experience briefly in exchange for a rock to stand upon. Is it worth it? When will it stop?

diagnosing things that don't need to be problems.
pounded pounded by a constant influx, fighting to sift through the reason for truth

trying, trying too hard to let something out. When will it begin?