I begin to realize, in the dream, that it's not my eyes I'm looking through. Whoever I'm seeing through steps away from the devastation of the storm and stumbles across a lifeless body. I wake the moment I realize it's mine.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
I wondered why we put villains in our stories when we have plenty of them in real life; then I realized that maybe we wanted stories where the good guy wins. — nogutsnoglory