You walk around with your scars showing. Does everyday threaten the end? We can't know where we're going. It hurts to think of where we've been. Do you get the feeling? I might believe all is made to die. I can't claim anything not anything I claim. It doesn't matter anyway it's not changing anything. At the end of the day I find I'm losing ground, I'm losing my mind I don't mind. I feel good enough maybe even fine sometimes.And sometimes so down. So