As I wait for my break, and as I recover from every denial that's thrown my way, I find that never before have I been such a hazzard to myself. But the thing is, I don't wish for a day in the life of someone else, what I wish for, more than anything, is just a day in mine that's really worth living. I know I'm my own worst enemy, but I can't help myself. I gaze at all of them, who seem to have everything, and I can't help but feel a little jealous. I'm starting to believe that the boulevard of broken dreams is where I'm destined to stay. It's the only world I've ever been accustomed to. I recognise the streets and the gloomy lights paving my way towards a destiny I refuse to accept, a destiny I cannot live with. As I lay my head and prepare for my eternal slumber, one thing is clear. No wait, this time, nothing truly is.
This is when the true meaning of failure comes to show.
