Haha, the loser laughed. He will finish it this time.
At least the stars don't care. Mark does.
Mark drove down the boulevard, admiring that new shiny technology. 'Fuck the old shit, it's rusted over.'
He(she) longed for new metal. New chrome. New shiny to catch an interest. Them interests are quick, better find a stick.
Pompous, much? Mark felt(was) trapped in the grey. See below. The next fool slit his wrists. Should've jumped overboard. Hard concrete ends all wishes.
And so the entrapment began. Mark cried himself to sleep and to wake. Read to stop thinking. Hoping for the outcome.
But, the outcome failed. The gates opened and the hatred poured and poured like off-brand kool-aid.
What is it about Mark? How has he changed? Confinement changes no one, it only makes them dream of the chances they had. Bad person? Regret? Fuck you. Fuck fuck fuck you.
Nothing changed. Freedom came and went. Mistakes caused hatred.
Cry, dumb fuck. Not you, but the other one.
And one more thing:
There is a god mode. It is called a lie. You are well versed in the cheats of life, sir. Once you realize this, no one can touch you, except the smart. Most are oblivious. You are safe. Drink and breath deep. She won't know.
And you, reader, are the oblivious.
Goodnight, sweet dreams, and hopefully your(our) bed will catch on fire and we will cease to worry.
One can only hope.
Stay awake and remember.