SAM COOKE

Written on 06/17/2024
IMAKEMAD BEATS

This is the end of something. I don’t know what it is yet… but it is the end. I’m certain. This isn’t some astrological thing, or a prediction from the mayans. I know it. I don’t heed all the things people tell me regarding their random beliefs of super natural things that lack evidence. I often just look at those things as things people need to believe in to make sense of themselves or their lives, and I respect them for that, but that doesn’t mean I believe those things. I just respect others ideas and beliefs. This, what I’m typing, is none of that. 

 

This is the end of something.

In my world.

If you’re reading this, you’re in a world I created. One of a few.

 

I get the feeling that I’m running out of me to give to people.

I’m also just trusting people less and less. Signs that my time of serving is being diluted by jadedness and bitterness. People think I need to get away, and to some extent maybe that’s true, but it doesn’t feel true. I feel like that’s what they’d need in my scenario, but like most things in my life, good luck finding someone in my scenario. My one of a kind being has created a one of a kind life.

 

I think I just need time alone. Maybe.

 

No one will read this. It isn’t a sexy picture, or me giving away something you want from me. It’s just about me… the parts of me where you have nothing to gain from… making it uninteresting.

 

If you just read this, you may be no one.

I don’t have to make sense, I’m an artist.