As long I am alive and brea thing something is bound to give. A new face, A new hope. Casting shadows of doubt but my face remains unclenched. A fever dream. Waiting for this to be over.
I'm extremely rational. I don't believe in "manifestation," and relentless positivity makes me roll my eyes. I'm very realistic about how fucked our world is. But I can't help thinking far back in my head, "It'll probably work out."
