Artificial Tears

I've been thinking about that phrase a lot lately. 
Artificial tears. 
I think those have sprung from my tear ducts before. Because of artificial feelings, artificial memories. Everything looks better through salt crusted eyes; feels like the real thing.
We'll break the same either way. 
This is quite possibly the shittiest thing I'll write all night. I don't have the energy to top myself. It's fine. This is real. This is it. 
I need a phone call. 
A pep talk. 
I'm fishing for compliments and all of my fish are in far away ponds. 
It's better this way. They never bite the right way. 


A dear friend told me that when a good thing is about to happen the world seems to throw all the bad at you first. 


Something fucking great must be coming a few tomorrows from now.