And in my youthful pursuit of letting life do what it wanted with me. I was lead exactly where I thought I would. Behind a keyboard like all my heroes. But I was a fool. I remained ignorant of things like I’ll often go without like they did. And that for me to do this it has no right being easy. So now I relish every kick I take. I tell myself it’s all practice baby.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
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