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| You look through your window and through mine, and yet you know not what you see. All you see is a figure at a desk. What would you think if you knew what that figure was doing? Would you pass judgement on me, and if you did who are you to pass judgement on me. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU. You can't relate to me, you don't even know me. What gives you the right to condemn my actions and me? I am not perfect I am far from, and you don't think I know that. Whenever I look at you I hate myself. Try living day in, and day out, hating yourself because of someone else. Once you do that, then and only then you can judge my actions and me. |
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