So I was reading something about leaving something. Or someone. And how hard it is. And how easy it should be.
About how being miserable with beats being happy without, for some stupid reason. About how awesome it is when you´re finally able to let go. And what it takes to take that leap.

I´ve been smoking like there´s no tomorrow.
I´ve been mentally, and physically exhausted. My body is supposed to be my temple. My house. My mind, well, I won´t even go there. I´ve managed to achieve the highest level of fucked-up I possibly could.
I still shake it off, drink it off, scream it off like it doesn´t really matter and I´ll be fine in a day or two.
You won´t catch me without a smile on my face.
Oh, life´s great. No worries.

Ok then.