I can quit my job whenever I want, and that's gonna be the day I leave this earth. It doesn't matter how tired I get, I'll never cry about it.
I'm losing my hair, but I don't care. A man provides, as I say. I deserve to be standing here on this chair because I've earned it.
My father taught me that nothing in life comes free, and I tell it to my wife all the time. I'm sure she's sick of it, but it's true. She always tells me to slow down, but I wouldn't be as worried as I am if I wasn't right one hundred percent of the time.
When I'm asleep I'm terrified. I see the end of my life. A marker on a grave and I know that I'm buried underneath. Under my name, of course, it reads "He earned his life".
My father never lies to me, so I take his advice without any salt. We'd better learn to forage, utilities and mortgage are all that matter in this world.
There are some nights that I wish never happened. Sometimes I see my life as a graph, a steady percent of my life that I have to earn. I've earned this life, but what have I done to earn it? It's best that I don't dwell on it.
I think about myself a lot. I'm the only life I'll ever have to earn, and utilities and mortgage are all I need to earn that. I wouldn't be so worried about it if I was wrong.
YOU ARE READING
Something About a Phone
FanfictionSpirit Phone, retold. "have a favorite album? write a book!" - nobody ever But seriously, I finished writing this in two hours and should take about 2 minutes to read if you're me (I read fast so idk how long it's gonna take you) Go listen to Ivanus...
