We have each other all the rest is background noise
Too busy living the high life
I’ve locked myself up into my own jail
excellence is difficult, but to mediocre there’s no pressure
am I looking backwards too much?
we are all such submarines
held together with duct tape
It’s not good to let people weasel around the system we have
I love strangers picking at my scabs
The sadness is so real
My life is a hashtag 