Killing a killer, doesn't reduce the number of killers.

  
Dear you

It's been two years. Two terrifying fearsome years. I had no clue what would fall on my fate or who will. This time, i thought i was ready. No more mistakes; no more close friends. Keep everyone far; expectations, farther. It was a new life. I was happy or that's what i assumed. A jester to the eye, deep down only i knew, i was just portraying my part in the circus of my life. It feels like a lifetime has gone and im stuck, somewhere in the interstellar. Every second of my masked face, i want to scream for help. From behind my artificial skin, i've learnt some daring truths about myself. I can fake it for about two years at a stretch. I can find you in everybody i meet. I can lov...