Bullets

I would take a bullet for my friends. Not my 'friends'. Not just 'people who know me'. Not 'people who I've met'. My true, die-hard friends. It doesn't matter to me if the sentiment isn't reciprocated: These people, whether they are aware of their status in my eyes or not, would be welcome to everything I own.

What screws me up is that, even amongst this illustreous group, there are lines that I cannot cross, and lines that I wish I had crossed a long time ago. For good or bad, on a few counts, if I'd done what I should have done, when I should have done it, I wouldn't be sat here at 3am typing this with my brain racing at a million miles an hour and a head full of hope, regret and infinitely improbable possibilities..

None of that makes sense, unless you're me.

One song says "all sparks will burn out in the end". Another says "there is a light and it never goes out". Would that the latter were less true than the former.

Pyro

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