my mum would always tell me i was capable of owning the world as long as i tried my hardest but trying my hardest never seems to cut it anymore
it's tragic living in a world where your dreams won't come true if you just try
"just try", they say, just try to stop panicking and wondering and obsessing and hurting and dreaming they say dreaming with venom dripping from every syllable and into my eyes, slowing turning to tears as i mutter a feeble "i'll try"
and i try my hardest but it's like trying to empty a flooding boat with shaky hands
once i fix one thing another comes up and my brain can't take the your-mental-illness-is-an-excuse-for-lack-of-trying for much longer and i panic and wonder and obsess and hurt and dream that i'm not here in a sinking boat
the boat is burning, darlin', no use trying to put the fire out if you'll die anyway
so this rage inside of me, this disgusted rage, burns and your snickers and saying your-mental-illness-is-an-excuse-for-lack-of-trying only fuel this sempiteternal catastrophe in my soul and my mind says "fuck it" and i die alone with my passion
"real life sucks losers dry. you wanna fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly"
