Funk Overload

Since when it became so impossible I have no idea. Maybe since the time I started the biggest break in my life; the one I’m not sure about its ability to end.
The thing is you dance with it or you die. And here I am: staring at the DJ without having the slightest idea about when this daze started.
Maybe it was a particular day instead of a long span. It could be the night I intentionally scared myself to death (the adrenaline junk that I used to be…).
It started anyway. Maybe the fear, maybe the anger. I vote for the hate, though. That damned hardy b**ch!
Who knows? Who cares? What I have now is this extreme numbness which makes me sit right here, on the ground, in the middle of this funk party you got.
I would love the way you move, but don’t bet I join you…
P.s: remind me stop pushin’ it so hard to write “fun”. It’ll always come out a dark poppycock.

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