You Can't Tame A Wild Horse So You Just Beat It

It's a little angry, and it's doesn't rhyme...much.

Hello, hello, I haven’t got a f*****g vice, and if I did, I’d grip your
tiny neck and resist the crush to point your eyes at the most obvious,
important fact about life. It goes on, you see, there is no you, there
is no me, the importance of ourselves is dependent on a small window of
time that we get to make an imprint, but we don’t get to walk on the
concrete sidewalks and leave footsteps, we have to pour fresh, wait, and
risk losing our shoes. Do you want the imprint of a brand name or do
you want your actual foot noted on this Earth? The corporations will
feed you s**t since your oh so important date of birth, so get up, get
on, and get over it, you will never sleep a full night, you will never
eat a meal “on time”, and you will never s**t where someone else won’t
eat. So toast this with your caffeine or your pain pills or your
nicotine or your anti-depressants, in fact, gather up all your
prescriptions that you nagged the doctor for, take a dose from each one,
and let the effects change your mood, your mind flashing in and out of
what’s bad and what’s good. Tell me that I’m wrong, and that I don’t
understand you, and that I’m losing out on something good, and that I’ve
never been a good friend, and that I’ve never truly been there, but
when you do, I hope you consider all the things you have to do yourself,
all the things I can’t do for you, and how maybe I just wanted to live
my life beside you not with you, not about you, I want to be near the
ones that are wise enough to know, that I’m not here to put each one of
their burdens on my shoulders. And if I could carry an army of depressed
souls to happiness, I wouldn’t, because I don’t think they’d appreciate
it, I don’t think they’d understand the path to happiness isn’t paved,
and that happiness isn’t a destination in the first place, it’s a way of
life�"it’s the brighter side, it’s knowing contrast is necessary and
anxiety, mystery, and fear and paranoia are MEANT to be scary. When’s
the last time that you felt like you were going to die? When’s the last
time that wasn’t a self-inflicted fear? Tell me again that I don’t
understand, tell me again that you’re entirely happy and the world is
pristine. Tell me again, like your words are a weapon. Tell me again,
like you have all the power and control. Tell me again.