So you want me to tell you something about myself? I don't have anything to say. Even if I did you'd be wrong to believe me.




Trust is a lie.




Nobody ever knows any more.

Lucas: Albert Camus once wrote, "Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken." But I wonder if there's no breaking then there's no healing, and if there's no healing then there's no learning. And if there's no learning then there's no struggle. But struggle is a part of life. So must all hearts be broken?

Don't wanna lie, lie, lie


But I want to love, love, love


But Pinocchio has to lie, lie, lie


To keep his love, love, love


And Pinocchio lied, lied, lied


He lost, he lost, he lost


But the fairy loved, loved, loved


The boy who always lie, lie, lie


- Mr. Endlessly by angel-puppeteer

Maybe we like the pain. Maybe we're wired that way. Because without it, I don't know, maybe we just wouldn't feel real. What's that saying? Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop.