Of all the things I could promise myself;
I can only say half-*** things about the good things
that are about to come along the way
then light a cigarette with a clouded mind
and zero visions of an escape plan.

Yeah, it's as typical as I could be when I am left
with not much of a choice but to function in harmony
with the "best laid plans" of my life.

I am somehow glad that I got through
almost everything that has been weighing me down.
Through with the sadness and the depression
but hollowed out through the process,
worn out by everyone who have me by the shoulder.

I don't mind at all, but if there's something that
bothers me is that the longer I spend my time staying here
the more bland my life seems to present itself
which is why I keep on finding ways not to get separated
from the line that leads me back into thinking:
"I don't mind at all."