What am I counting? My failures? My regrets?
I don't even know anymore.
How do I stop counting?
Am I fighting with the world? Or am I fighting with myself? Why do I need to fight at all?
Time and again, I try to find my way. One step forward. Three steps back. I'm not getting anywhere. Am I chasing a moving target? Or the target does not even exist?
I can destroy the world. I can destroy myself. But I can't get any of this right.
The weight kills me. But the silence is worse. It's one thing to condemn me. It's quite another to not.
I run on hope, or what little amount of it that remains. (Or is this called naive?)
I run on faith, believing things I cannot see. (Or is this called blind?)
9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
Turn back the clock.
Can I start over?
IMUL
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