“Please don’t worry so much. Because in the end, none of us have very long on this Earth. Life is fleeting, and if you’re ever distressed, cast your eyes to the summer sky, when the stars are strung across the velvety night. When a shooting star streaks through the blackness, turning night into day…make a wish and think of me. Make your life spectacular.”
Do you fuck with me still?
Not sure that I give a fuck
But I do know I can't give one tonight, tonight (For real)
I'm back on my bullshit New phone, who's this?
I'm back doing what I wanna do now
Well, I don't like talkin' to myself
But someone's gotta say it, hell
I mean, things have not been going well
This time I think I finally fucked myself
You see, the life I live is sickening
I spent a decade playing chicken with oblivion
Day to day, I'm neck and neck with giving in
I'm the same old wreck I've always been
My favourite ever song line was by the songwriter and poet Leonard Cohen, its like a mantra in my life, keeps me going sometimes esp if times are rough..
There is a crack in everything,
That's how how the light get in
I swear
I just found everything I need
The sweat in your eyes the blood in your veins are listening to me
Well I want to wrap it up and swim in it until I drown
My moral standing is lying down
“It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them. So throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly. Lightly my darling...” ― Aldous Huxley, Island
“There are two kinds of pity. One, the weak and sentimental kind, which is really no more than the heart's impatience to be rid as quickly as possible of the painful emotion aroused by the sight of another's unhappiness, that pity which is not compassion, but only an instinctive desire to fortify one's own soul against the sufferings of another; and the other, the only one at counts, the unsentimental but creative kind, which knows what it is about and is determined to hold out, in patience and forbearance, to the very limit of its strength and even beyond.”
― Stefan Zweig, Beware of Pity