I see an endless ocean before me as I swim through the straight.

"Just keep swiming." Dora repeats over and over and over and over and over again until my mind finally breaks.

"Who do we want to be?" And for just a moment, I think of myself. And with that realization came, "don't I always only think about myself?"

I don't know.

I try, I try so hard to keep my nose above these waves, but sometimes I forget to actually breathe.

What's air worth if you decide to stop breathing?

It's just another thing to forget about.

I typed in prose(daht)ckm

Ibgit autocifrecfed, I found the fight websifem.

Half a folllon of bodka on the wall, another half tondrown!

Evixtiom kn 14 daya. Don't know where to breathe or nor!

Pffthahhahaha. Whi fricken xares! Nto em I assure te!

I judt wshi dir1 death!

I survived another day.

I didn't get my car door fixed but thats okay.

Because I survived another day.

The exterminator didn't come but thats okay.

I survived another day.

I was 3 days sober but thats okay.

A toast, at least I'm alive another day.

This feels like minimum wage but thats okay.

It's because of the poor choices I've made.

But it can't be all bad, I made it to another day.

My thoughts come and they go, before I write them down.

So I get caught in an idea and forget what it was about.

And I try to put it here...

And it's too late now, I wanted to make it rhyme. I got so caught up that I forgot again. How nice.

Goodbye for now!

Aren't I just quirky!

(I'll be this way forever unless I die before I'm 30.)

I only talk to you when I'm drunk and in pain.

I only speak of situations I feel I cannot control.

That isn't faith. That isn't belief.

And here I am, talking to myself again.

Thinking it would do me some good,

Thinking it could solve all of my problems,

Thinking it could save me.

But things have never gone my way.

Maybe that's a good thing,

Maybe that's your will.

Maybe that's how you save me.

Maybe I'm ignorant towards you.

Maybe I'm just lonesome.

Maybe I'm unlovable.

Maybe I am not kind.

Maybe.. Just maybe, I should step into your chappel

And maybe, just maybe, I should kneel before your statue and deem you my lord yet you've no proof of your existence, of your power, of your wonders.

Maybe.... I just want something to help me find my purpose.

Maybe I just want to reach my highest of goals.

Maybe I just feel trapped in a society that doesn't give a fuck if I live or die.

Maybe... Maybe one day I'll find happiness.

And maybe, if I'm lucky enough, maybe I'll see what you're truly capable of.

I want to cry, but,

Why should I?

When the only one who sees

Is your God above the sky.

But the only one who sees

Is really only me

When I look into the mirror.

And it's only when I talk to you

When I feel a bit better.

But what costs is due,

And I don't want to seem bitter.

But I care too much I'm boiling

And I just need to simmer.

I love you. And apart of me is shamed.

I can't fully say my past relationships are to blame,

I've always been this way.

I just hope we at least stay friends

When it comes to our final days.

Alcoholic, I'm on another bender,

But this ain't no Futurama.

There's so much drama,

I miss my Momma,

I'm so focused on my trauma,

It's so hard to repair.

Fixing myself, just take it one day at a time,

No im fine,

I'm in love with wine,

That ain't no crime

It's peace of mind.

No it's not.

Another day another struggle, another bottle down the drain.

I'm in pain,

I've gone insane,

There's no one left to blame.

I just hope it kills me while I'm young.

With a little brush

You marked my wrist

With your bottled scent.

Last night I slept

With my hand in my face

Because it smelt like you.

I can't help but to think

That like a cat you marked me

As your territory.

And last night was great,

Because it was the best sleep I've had

In many months.

Because my hand smelt like you.

This feels wrong

Something isn't right about the thing between you and I

Maybe because you remind me of her,

Maybe it's because you're with somebody.

We talk to each other everyday, all day.

About the big things, even the little things.

But we hide it, sneaking around.

Like we're in high-school.

You love him but you like me,

And it makes me so conflicted

Because I like you too.

And I don't know what to do.

I once met a girl and very quickly, I fell for her.

I thought she was beautiful, enigmatic, full of energy and just weird, and I liked that.

But I was just so timid and I'd get so nervous around her, I did eventually tell her I liked her.

Buuuut, I told her in my notebook, literally.

I wrote it down and showed it to her in paragraph form, today it absolutely shocks me she ever saw anything in me, but to my surprise she liked me back.

So she cheated on her boyfriend, and I lost my virginity in the backseat of his Toyota.

Good Ole 20 years old.

I'm 23 now, and me and her have since parted ways.

That was after I packed up all of my bags, and we moved to another state.

Beautiful Tennessee.

Her home.

With her family and all her friends.

With all her exes, too, and boy I sure met a lot of them.

But hey, one of them became a very good friend of mine.

Well, she eventually got back with her Ex from Texas, my neck of the desert, and I'm finding a new apartment.

This tore me the hell up, I started drinking heavily.

Very heavily.

What's a fifth of vodka? We were drinking damn near a gallon every day.

Let me tell ya, it's the worst dang hangover, you wanna know how I cured it?

I drank more.

And I drank more.

It got to the point where I didn't feel normal being sober.

Last year I lost my job at this plant I really liked.

I had worked there nearly a year, my personal record me being 23 and all.

Well, I didn't show up for 2 weeks, and they were very patient with me.

But, well, the course took its toll.

I wont mame any excuses for my actions, I'm lucky they waited 2 weeks.

Life goes on, I slowed down on my drinking, on my smoking.

I found a new job, Katz.

I liked it, and I wanted to be better for myself, for others around me.

I stuck to it, and I'm still here.

I made friends, I met a girl.

A girl who makes me nervous, a girl who makes me giggle.

A girl who makes bubbles in my chest.

They want to hire me, I admitted to my weed use.

It's my crucible, the thing that molds iron and steel.

This will mold me into a beautiful shape, sharpened or dull, shiny or full of slag.

I'm not a blacksmith. I'm a machine operator.

I've never been this anxious in my life.

Come Monday, either I'll be gone and lose all of my chances.

Or I'll remain, and be the happiest boy on planet Earth.

I am easily replaceable, but all I need is a chance.

Just one chance.

And given that chance? I won't let them down.

I swear that to myself. I deserve that for myself.

I've been working so hard for this, and I'm not willing to give it up.