• my bones were branded "futile", but i still deemed them "functional". yet some days (especially the ones that rain), i can barely move for fear of losing all ambition. upon these days, i do often lose myself in hazes of smoke and i walk home, dully aware of the lights that i'm so "fortunate" to be heir to. but am i lucky? i'd say luck is relative. i eat horrible food and i give up on beauty for few days until i rise again. when i awake from this "fragile" state, i am fierce and polished to make for the time lost. i merge into society again, hoping to slowly demolish it from within once more and demonstrate to "friends" that there is more to life than "following".

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