Transmissions.

I'm here staring at myself at the mirror and just going deep into my own eyes.

What have I done till now ? What have I done to make a name for myself ?

Nothing.

It's a really crappy feeling you get when you have opportunities floating up and bursting right in your face, mocking and teasing you as they die out.

When you're all alone on your bed thinking about the future you and hoping he would be a jolly old man living a good life, perhaps a good partner, perhaps a good kid. Perhaps...living life.

But for now I just see myself in a shell, looking at the dark walls that surround me and the blue glowing rectangle place upon wood at the location I confine myself in at home.

Everyday just seems like a 2 way highway to me, I just need that bit of help that broken down cars get at the side of the road, something, somebody, some of it.

As for now, I'll just think for a while, perhaps I'm writing this while my real self is sleeping inside me, dying to awake one day to be somebody great.