It’s like the world is on a secret
That everybody else knows
About how to keep hope
When life weary grows
I’ve been taking too many pointless chances lately
Started wars that achieve nothing
Except to leave me hurting
Why do I have to break so much,
To allow myself to start living?
EXISTENTIAL DREAD
If I was dying, terminal disease, destiny or something of the sort
It would be easier to get what I want, right?
My parents would probably never say no to me
Strangers would be overly nice to me out of pity
I’d probably be more driven to chase after what I want
Is this what they mean
When they say live everyday like it’s your last?
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