What are you doing with your life I'm asked on a daily well I don't know it's like a washing machine I spin around all day around the same things it exhausting I get dried like a do every day when I'm worn and the cycle continues over and over again. Till torn up or sold for good I wish I still had my seams. But I'm worn out. Like an old person aching and remising on the old times of the good old days and the way life used to be more happier and simpler than what It is now I wish I had my first love back and not have to have buried her like buried my truth my full truth I will not lose to the new me I'm sick of the new me. So what am I'm doing with my life I live a life with no reset button it's and if you die you well at least you tried. So well I died and amazing death full of happiness.