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Forget me, forgive me.
My head doesn't have enough room for all my thoughts. Some of them fall off my eyes like tears, some others go down to my hands so I can write them. Some others fill my mouth untill I spit them out. Most of them just stay there, stuck in my labyrinthic mind and wait for me to go to sleep so they can slither inside, rotted and filthy with evil and egoism. That's when I come up with all my stupid ideas about me and the world. And they all begin as little unspoken thoughts.