I look behind and see the shattered memories.
As I remember, they're not the only thing I see.
Some of it was shit and the rest was happiness.
What the future held was work and loneliness.
So I sit in my room, not mine in the end.
I wonder about what I can do to change it.
Fake opportunities cloud me from the real ones.
And ultimately I fail and fade into depression.
Why couldn't I learn from other life lessons?
The paths in front of me are obscured by a cloud.
It seems that I can't hear because of the roar of the crowd.
Writing and thought only distract me from the end.
But maybe... Just maybe there's something better around the bend.
So I'll take my placebo and run down to the beach.
If I try really hard, nothing is out of reach.
But in truth, it's reality that really sucks.
And together, lonely and together, we are all truly fucked.
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