There's a monster in your bed and you can't figure out whether it's telling you to kill yourself or demanding all your money. You try to run and by the end of it you realise you don't care about losing anything as long as it's not your life - and that's what he is, your life. And you cry because he might be wanting to leave soon and if he does the whole world will be just monsters on dark corners. And you will have to face them alone.
My eyes hurt.
Há uma semana