Wise people. They don't ever look too far into the future. Odds are ever-changing.
Because there is no right conclusion. Only a legion of deadly rumours and doors open to different fates. What I court in knowing myself inside and out is that I'll never be split into two different people. As much as they say borderline is just a cursed disease; I've burned bridges all right, but I'm standing right here watching the tip of the icebergs of reality fall to the bottom.
Every system performs well when under watch. From the government. Those who said, fuck it, we're here for a real reason that defies what you might think. Aren't they bright ones? Aren't they just who you might need to escape from hell?
It's going to be awhile until you hear from me again. Perhaps it's for the best. I'll never know where my life was set to go until it hit me in the face that I am insane. Batshit. Gone. Antigonize me more, world, for I know I'm a bittersweet ending to myself. It was never you.
So let it be. Let me be a better version of myself elsewhere for I know all I'm meant for is my disappearance, my impending bleeding heart, after being shot up with too much heroin as I giggle my spirit away into the wind. It's the way to be.
Let it be.