Time never seems to suffice,does it?Whether we run from it or after it,there's always that feverish beating of the heart,that hopeless hope,that draining resignation.Man invented clocks and that's when he knew he was doomed.No matter how much you try and compress and digress and transgress,it's never enough.It's never enough time to do everything,even when there's nothing to do.Then comes guilt.Confusion.Disappointment.You want a time machine.A couple of sedatives.A bottle of whiskey.Your head begins to spin,as does your pulse to race...On the contrary-time flies as careless as ever,whether you like it or not.
Life has a way of showing you how powerless you truly are.Preparations,calculations,plans drawn to the very last details-specks of dust beneath the feet of hazard.I tried to do it right,I really did,but everything still blew up in my face-now what?No tears,no wallowing.On the contrary-I knew I could never win,I just needed a confirmation.
Every man needs love,right?I need love not only for what it really is,but as proof.Proof that I'm worth it,that it's worth it,that at least something in this godforsaken world has a reason behind it.It's a selfish,stupid and catastrophe-prone desire,I know it all too well.But I'm aching and I'm waiting and I'm going insane with each passing minute.On the contrary-the monsters in my head are thriving,affection or not.
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