Only after disaster can we be resurrected

Oh man,it's like this:
You fuck up.
You make up.
You move on.


Yeah,right.
Thats what they say.

Who's they,you ask?
That's the big mystery.
The climax they want you to believe at the end of your life,the whole period of living life as you know it.Truth of the matter is,I wouldn't even hold my breath if I were you.Yes,I did at one point.I gave that ambition,that hope up a long time ago.I say fuck it.Don't expect anything from anyone.Once you can do that first step,and actually not need mommy around,you'll be the strongest you have in your life.Guarantee it.Stop waiting.Stop wishing.
It's so draining.
Too irritating.
Like that misquito bite.
The one right on the back of your shoulder.
Out of reach.
Almost a decade away kind of reach.
It's simple,but not logical.
Think it out.

You're life is not a damn soap-opera.
You just wish it was so you could make front cover.
You're not fooling anyone,you know.I was completely faded,and boy does it feel good to know you won't feel a thing at all.Regret it?No.I just wish I knew my limits,like I thought I did.We all think we know everything.Whatever.Nobody knows shit about anything anymore.
This is all just entirely first person perspective.Correct me if I stumble into absurdity.
I'll leave it alone,for now.

Like I always say,you wanna make an omelet,you gotta break some eggs.