At the end of the day you end up with
yourself. Nothing seems to last the onslaught of you. Another solitary night
with only Jack and Coke for company. You just don’t seem to get the point. If
all dogs go to heaven then why are you still stuck in the doghouse?
It’s not funny trying to be a
success in the midst of a model that doesn’t account for honest attempts. Ends
justify the means every time. The last time you felt socially respectable you
were doing all the same things for recreation that you do now. You still pay
your own bills. Only difference was that you made the monthly pay check back
then.
Prostituting yourself to the system before the forced vacation hit.
When you were young you were creative
and lovable. Showing off the nice models you made with your Lego. You were a
fucking prodigy in your family. Then you grow up and all of a sudden it’s your bank
balance that speaks more than your play dough.
And then you met someone. Or a few.
And from that point on the equation went into multiple variables with no unique
solutions.
Ever.
Like some anonymous bastard said
quite well – life’s a bitch and then you die. So better screw the ones you can
while you have the chance. If you get to sell a bestseller about it maybe you
can die a rich bitch yourself.
So fucking what, you ask at this
point. And thankfully the 30 seconds for SEO driven attention spans just
expired so you can fuck off and ‘like’ some other pile of fresh dung on the
social network that is your life now.
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