what a trip....

i finally lost a round. at first, taste of defeat was harsh. cant get used to it, must get passed it. moral support is out the window, do this on your own is what im told. but whos giving the suggestions , my own conscious. my own conscious wants to be my demise. its like some fucken prize its trying to gain. i cry tears of pain tears that not even the rain can cover. my tears melt my body and expose my soul. my tears are like acid, corroding my exterior and exposing my interior. fuck i feel so inferior, so delirious, so uncontrolled. get up and walk away keep your head up to fight another day. but whats the point of the fight if the prize is already lost. whats the point of the journey if the trip is the actual journey. this trip is to fucked up its to real. its an outer body experience working in reverse. its a dejavu working backwords. my whole life is for sale and resale. my whole life is not what i thought it would be. but thats a good thing. im still here fighting a fight that im destined to lose but fuck it i still have something to prove.