Psycokill

Is this really all this tale will tell? As I look to the past of my memories I feel sorrow for I never shall return to those times. I remember the comfort I enjoyed with others in both physical and mental bonds. I remember the laughs I enjoyed with my friends that time has taken from me. I remember the days I enjoyed with those I wish to today. I remember the bonds I had with them, both romantic and friendly. I remember the squabbles we've been through to make us closer together. I remember all of the hang outs we've had over all these years. Most of all, I remember just sitting around and having fun with everyone. When I remember those tim

I live in my dreams. Imagination is my escape from this pitiful existence. Why must the real world exist?