Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.

Step XXXIII
Exhaustion

It is a pretty common state or feeling. Drained, expired, etc.
I try to remain cordial in my dealings with those around me, but I can't, in good faith, keep slamming my head against the proverbial wall.

I really don't give a fuck that you don't like me. I can sleep at night(kind of) because I like me.

Every time you spout off your meaningless bullshit, I would take it to the heart.

Well fuck you. You are a shitty friend and I'm over it.

I look at the world, and I know it sits turning.

Step XXXII
Ambivelence

The angels with open hands and closing eyes,
they tell me far too often that I won't die.
The scion breaks away.
The father remains the same.
They burned away his dreams right when
they answered all my questions.

When I dream
I won't remember anything.
When I finally lay my head down to sleep
I'll refuse everything behind and ahead of me.
Who am I to say whats worth remembering.

Modest, far, and out of touch.

Step XXXI
Breathing

I breathe easy most days, regardless of what I am confronting. Though I don't sleep much, I rest peacefully knowing that nothing is permanent. Some times, the seemingly ethereal quality of time being spent can cast a shadow across what is to come, but I find that I mostly feel otherwise.

Every time the day breaks, it leaves the misspent hours in the dust. It is only accepting of new ventures and uncertain dreams.

If you find a shadow cast in front of you, try walking towards the sunrise.

No longer will we wait for you answers.

Step XXX
Eventuality

You can't run from who you were, just like you will never catch up to who you will be.

I've been walking one way to get back to her.

Step XXIX
Contrast

I feel like my soapbox has been abandoned. Re-initiating shortly.