I'm not sure who I am. I just know theres something dark in me. I hide it. Certainly don't talk about it. But it's there, always. The dark passanger. And when he's driving... I feel.. alive. Half sick with the thrill of complete wrongness. I don't fight him. I don't want to.He's all I've got. Nothing else could love me. Not even.. especially not me. Or is that just the lie the dark passenger tells me? Because lately... I feel... connected. To something else.. to someone. It's like... the mask is slipping. And things.. people..who never mattered before are suddenly starting to matter. It scares the hell out of me.
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