It’s hard not to hate. People, things, institutions when they brake your spirit and take pleasure in watching you bleed.
Hate is the only feeling that makes sense. But I know what hate does to a man. Tears him apart. Turns him into something he’s not. Something he promised himself he’d never become.

That’s what I need to tell you. To let you know how hard I’m trying not to cave under the weight of all the awful things I feel in my heart.

Sometimes my life feels like a deadly balancing act. What I feel slamming up against what I should do. Impulsive reactions raising to solutions miles ahead of my brain.

When I look at my day.. I realize the most of it was spend cleaning up the damage of the day before. In that life I have no future. All I have is distraction… and remorse.

I buried my best friend three days ago. As cliché as this sounds I lost a part of me in that box. A part I barely knew, a part I’ll never see again.

Every day is a new box, boys. You open it, you take a look at what’s inside. You are the one who determents if it’s a gift or a coffin.