I don’t want to be the one to change the world.
I don’t expect myself to be that great.
I’ve lowered my expectations of myself,
Because I’m tired of all this confusion between love and hate.
And it seems no matter what goals I make,
There never good enough,
Because fate will take over.
If you believe in that kind of thing.
So I guess for now I’ll take the pain,
And embrace the bruises, cuts and tears that all this is sure to bring.
Isn’t it a silly thing? How we’re willing to put ourselves through so much agony, and remorse, regret, denial, betrayel, all completely different things, but all have the same foundation.
Whatever it is you’re putting yourself through, you’ve gotta realize you control it. You choose to keep going back. It’s like it’s this hypothetical drug you can’t get yourself off of. No amount of rehabilitation…
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