You wear a mask for so long, you forget who you were beneath it.
You can do terrible things when you don't know who you are.
Such a human waste, your eyes without a face.
I am not a man. I am not a human being inside. I am not that. I don't know what I am, but I am not that.
I'm a misplaced American, but don't know where I was misplaced.
I've always operated so far outside my lane, I'm not sure what lane is mine anymore.
I'm something that I used to be. I'm never where I feel I am, and if I seek myself, I don't know who's seeking me. My boredom with everything has numbed me. I feel banished from my soul.
I used to be someone.
He had come so far from himself that I don't think he knew who he was anymore.
My inside self and my outside self used to match. A compass needle pointed true north. Now the needle spins around and around indicating the sad direction of nowhere.
