Sometimes I do realize that life means being on our own. Feeling isolated, separated, far away from each other. Apart. 
Sometimes I do realize the presence of my weaknesses and high expectations. Sometimes I hate myself for not fighting them. 
Well sometimes I fight and sometimes I don’t because I don’t always need to.
Sometimes I accept my own weaknesses. 
Sometimes I do realize that my insecurities are on stage wasting my wellbeing.
Sometimes I would like to be someone else, an improved version to perceive the elsewhere and else how. 
Well sometimes I work on it really hard.
Sometimes I wonder about the deep reasons of my very existence.
Sometimes I doubt about the meaning of my life and the meaning of life itself.
Sometimes I wonder about silly questions: what about I was dead ? And I do realize: nothing would change.
Everything would. 
Sometimes I wonder and I feel on my own. Loneliness and solitude at the same time. 
Sometimes  I miss who I’ve been but I need to fight for myself. 
Most of the time I get a high satisfaction of every little bit offered on my path.

Tomorrow is forthcoming and I have so little clues about who I am. But I know that tomorrow I’ll be dead and I’m fine with it. Because I’ll never be on my own.
Do I need much more?

So I’m smoking and drinking and that’s enough for now. 
Sometimes I escape from your reality and I turn the excess of thoughts into puke text.
Well sometimes it helps. And more importantly it saves me from who I was. ‘Cause I’m definitely heading toward the right direction.