Me, Myself, I.

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I'm never myself. Always on the run. Never taking a rest.
You have to understand that being an Artist means to be a perversion of life.
I'm an exception. It will be a burden - never will I be as everybody else.
I still have a dream of being ordinary. I hate myself, but it is too late now.
Why did I do it? There is no turning back.
Why do you do it? I need to do it. "I am a Poet even before I am human."
I disgust people. It is my job. I'm not human. Who do you think you are? Somebody divine?
Soon it is all over, and I will be dead.

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