I think life has got A bit out of hand. I’m changing for the worst. I feel my body decaying, I’m barley eating and just sleeping a lot. I live from call to call. The only person I’m calling is my dealer. Every time I promise myself it’s the last time. But I just can’t resist it. It’s not that these drugs give me anything anymore. I feel like I’m stuck in a loop, over and over and over I’m doing the same things. I get high, I program a bit, after a while I’m just too fucked up and space out. I just don’t know what is real anymore. I mean there all these pictures of people, pictures of bodies... But was a really there? Did I touched, felt, experienced? I mean there is evidence! I must have bin there!!! But I just can’t recall it. I’ve searched everywhere if there was some physical proof, that its me who has been making these pictures. But I just can’t find it. Who the fuck am I, I feel so splitted... So many versions of myself... Wilbert Vogel... Tilberw Wogel... Tr@bL€€UW i even made this fucking song... I think this is me... It sounds like me… I just can’t recall it…