My life has been nothing but an example of how not to live your live. I’ve done so many things. Most for others. Yet it seems that its never enough. And I end up the same way I enter my days. Alone.
Who am I to complain? I’ve had it all more than once. And panicked. And ended up losing it all. So, while they will end up happy, have their kids, or whatever. I will be alone. Painfully alone. Its my fault. Its always my fault. I’m nothing without my vices. And my vices are what make me the way I am. I’m always one step behind. And look at me now. Scrambling last minute, struggling to make it and just figuring this out.
I’ll be alone for a while and forget all over again. Theres something seriously wrong with me. But apparently my purpose on this earth is not to be happy. Maybe its to push others in that direction. Like a traffic cop for souls. So, as I sit alone yet again, it dons on me. This wont change. I can work my ass off for the rest of my life, and get no where. Because what I want has nothing to do what where I’m going.
