|Current mood:|| cold|
|Current music:||"The Way I Am" - Eminem|
F#ck this sh!t
There was a time when I thought it was desire that burned at my fingertips; a need to feel the warmth of another human, to touch and feel someone else. Well I suppose I know better now. It is merely the flames of contempt and scorn that scorch my hands in their merciless heat. Skin seered and nerves burned away, my hands have become as numb to the touch as dead limbs, not able or the least bit wanting to feel that which they've missed out on for their entire existence. Forget this, nothing can possibly be worth this, the towel is thrown in and I am retiring. I'm tired of all of this and I'm done. Period.