Why is this my life, is almost everyones question

That same harmonica loops over and and over in my mind. Trying to put the pieces in place.

- It's almost as she is running from me.
- Does it hurt? he said. Looking at me with puzzled eyes. That naive look only as blissful child can give you, my best of friends still posses.

Fuck yeah it hurts was the only thing I could think to reply, but being pierced by that gaze of innocense I could not get myself to be cruel and a slight nod was my only response.

Durig all my raving trips into the unknown of my mind, I've always tried to keep my inner monologue clean and away from the experience. I think that is why Hunter's great mind never collapsed under the immense presure from years and years of contant drug usage nor from the great weight of his own genius.
Lately I'm having trouble just to keep my inner monologue clean from even my most recent of thoughts. It's a downward spiral where only fight och flight is an option.

-It's really unnerving to walk around like a scavagener, I said.
Always preying on the hopes and joys of others. Depending on them to be happy enough to incubate me with some.
-You're out of my reach, she said. Taking long sparkling drags from her cigarett.
-Well if you can't help me, then who can?
-There's never been anyone to help you, only you can help yourself.
And thru the corner of my eye I saw how her long black hair fell down besides her face and that cigarett kept moving back and forth. I kinda knew that this was the end. Then a bird flew into the window and died...