Whos to blame for the life that tragedies claim no matter what you say it won’t
take away the pain, that I feel inside I’m tired of all the lies don’t nobody knowwhy it’s the blind leadin the blind.
“I just sit there, and let the thoughts flood
And I remind myself it’s all right, it’s all good
It’s all love, it’s not though
Cuz there’s a kink in the armor
A pot hole I’m sinkin’ in, the more I think of the drama
So I stand up, I start to pace in my living room
Set my eye to the highway, knowin’ that I’ll play chicken soon”
Dear John, my beloved friend.
You must be frightened at this moment, I’m sorry, I never meant to cause you any pain, and I never had the envision of writing this letter. I’ve searched for a signed fraction explanation of what I’m doing, but all I have come up with is; a profiler needs to have a solid footage, and I don’t think I do anymore. This world confuses me, the cruelty and the difference tragedy. When you, my dearest friend died on the operation table, I thought the way of coping with the pain was the only solution. It may has to be something with the way I work, the way I help people whom been losing the hope, while coping with the pain, such as I do. I thought I could handle your death, and work through it, and the very first thing I noticed after your death was the sky and the clouds. Blue skies and clouds are representing something beautiful, and something joyful, such as happiness. To me, the blue skies and white dots on the sky are now representing something that I remind about that day you’d died. John, I don’t understand this world anymore.
Grandpa, I miss you.
Just as soon as I walk in it’s like all eyes on me, so I try to avoid any eye contact, because if I do that then it opens a door to conversation.. like I want that…




