Walls And Black Holes This time The Wall is the soundtrack of the night. My bed feels stiff, like a cot. I feel weird, i have that empty feeling in my chest. Everything isn't how it should be. The album reaches its climax, my vision blurs, my eyelids move and it feels like i'm looking through thousands of pieces of broken glass. I start thinking, images running a thousand miles per second, i'm thinking about tomorrow, thinking about having no money, craving a thousand cigarettes, i'm talking to a boy i liked years ago but it's not the same, i don't want him anymore, what we had is gone, he has a girlfriend now, and i still feel empty. I think about the woods, The Spot, I think about him, i always think about him. I think about the time our bodies were pressed together and how i could feel his erection pressed hard against my empty stomach and i think about the glimpses I've stolen of his body, I think about the dream I had last night. Now the tears are falling and they're making ugly little dark stains on my sheets.