هدایت شده از بادماراخواهدبرد
یه نگاه میندازم به برگای خشک کف خیابون و یه نگاه به خودم، کدوم منم؟
I was born dead.
Sometimes I feel like I'm nothing, like why would anyone like me? Why would anyone be with me? Why would anyone stay? Why? Why does all this happen? Why do I fear your absence so much? Why doesn't this pain just go away?