My dreams at night are scattered with my fears of loss of love. A love that stretched further than the starry galaxies, splintered with glimmers of life and dark, a balance so unequal that the scales tipped towards the red end of the spectrum.

This fear is waning, but i crave it.

I crave the knife, the knife that bleeds my stomach dry. It wakes me up at night and fills my dreams with smidgeons of what i used to feel.

Now, maybe I am being too dramatic, but it is my fear.

I am scared of what is going to happen next. Is it a dream, is it reality? I do not know. What I know is I want to wake up, get out of this dream that might be reality. Live, not fear. Go crazy, not care. I can do whatever I want. I should do whatever I want. I will smash this year, this is my fear, and this is my dream.

I just have to smash my process down and build it again. Work hard, get crazy and have fun. It might sound simple but trust me, it is not at all.

SCA, bring it on, I ain’t scared (yes I am).