Forever is a very short time if you don’t have much time to yourself.
The harsh reality is exactly that. All manner of speaking decides what fading hours you spend on whom and why.
Why waste time on nothing when you can spend time doing something? Behind a crooked empty answer lies a straight yet flaccid question, all purpose of course. All rancid discourse. A peppered sorry excuse for telling yourself it’s all okay.
You only ever deceive yourself. No one else is arsed if you let yourself down by trying too little far too late. Change burns memories into deeds discussed in whispers lost. Shouting only tempts fate, and the most receptive of ears will close at the merest hint of trouble. Trouble that doesn’t belong to them in their closeted little off yellow world only adds to the stench of their denial. A putrid perfume that fills the nostrils like fried fish in a tent.
You are what you do. Simple as that. Just remember it hurts all concerned.