I held my breath for seventeen years, I sprinted through another disappointing career. I remember swirling seas of people that were perfect, at least perfect at the time. I knew a teacher who taught me, a friend who understood. I knew a girl who smoked cigarettes and said she wanted to kill herself and said she wouldn't and disappeared. And everyone disappeared; like anyone had a choice. I only wanted to be idealistic--integrity above all else. Do I believe it? I can't even believe in myself. After I fall I never get back up. At least I can still roll over. Stare blankly at a crowded wall, admit to yourself you were wrong, hold your breath for seven years, repeat mistakes that you remember. And fuck up again and again, look back in disappointment. The only way to be idealistic--integrity above all else. Do I believe it? I can't even believe in myself. After I fall I never get back up. At least I can still roll over.
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