Alarm goes off I silence it. I look around. Oh yeah, here I am again, my bed my room my job my life. This is where all the years of being a fuck up get you. A rundown man in a rundown building. No escape in sight. My only hopes are called long shots, dreaming in colour. Still, I believe.
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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