I'm so fucking sick of it. Sick down to my bowels, deeper even into my marrow, of the smoke in mirrors, the Internet Avatars, the hipster glitter-in-your-face-glamour, the fucking fakers. Genuine is so gauche, it seems. They all want a fucking sarcastic spiel before they'll even consider you relevant.
Little left in the world that's genuine, except the sun, moon, wind, earth and the movements of the planets. I must stop myself from believing in people, it only leads to tears. If only I could just become an element or planet, I would never hurt. What the hell is wrong with people?
Pallers - The Kiss