Keep Running

I’ve jogged the distance. I’ve ran the mile. I’ve uncovered the dark lingering figure in the corner and it still refuses to reveal itself

I’ve travelled the empty road and found nothing. I see nothing. I know nothing. But what I feel is life’s baggage of garbage; it follows me digging its fucking ivory nails into the back of my ankles, creeping up and seizing my calves, hanging on

I tend to echo insanity–I’m aware–but it mocks me with laughter that is twistedly alluring that I run faster. I keep going. Have I sold my soul? Have I saved it ? The world tells me to be calm, to keep pushing, and to enjoy the extraordinary events because it will make me stronger

It’s just life

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