Is any of this real? Is anything real? Was anything real? Am I real? What am I supposed to do? What is this life? I´m tired. Of words. (I´m putting them to bed.) I´m tired. (I´m going to bed, don´t call me.) Of me. (Don´t judge me until you´ve walked a mile in my shoes.) I keep thinking: "Tomorrow is another day." I keep thinking: "This too will pass." I keep feeling trapped. I keep feeling choked. I keep feeling that people move too fast. Too close. And, I feel the need to check out. Just for a while. To shut off my phone. To shut my door. To shut you out. Cause I really don´t have it in me. Not again. And, I will only hurt you in the end. I will let you down. I will make you cry. I will break you. And I will be. The one that got away. One night. When nothing and everything occurs. You will stare at the sky and wonder.
Why?
Ane Brun – This Voice
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