I’ve been thinking lately that I’m the worst person that I know. I’m self-destructive and quite narcissistic. A lost cause that’s not even worth it.
Born to be unremarkable in every way. Trading passion for stability while leading a life that’s redefining mediocrity. Where to next with this wasted potential? I’m running dry on this nine-to-five.
Bury me under the asphalt of this suburban sprawl. It’s a comforting reminder of all the things that I’ve done wrong. Like how I can’t tell the ones I love that they’re the reason I’m still here at all. Or how I’m failing at being a better man. Change is hard; I have too many faults.
I know nothing of progress. I’m an expert at dead ends and getting lost in my own head.