It's a matter of perspectives

Questions fill my head.
Instincts on a rampage.
Screaming voices vibrate.
Shrill shrieks of the instruments.

Shut up.
Shut up.
Shut up.

Give me back my solitude.
My privacy.
My space.
My freedom.

Get out.
Get out.
Get out.

I can't wait to be rid.
To be cleansed.
Of this abomination.

Independence.

The day where I fall and fail only by my own two hands.

I don't FREAKING need this in my life.