Roll With the Punches

I am stuck in a never-ending staircase. Falling down. Head over heel, down each madness inducing step towards futility. Am I close to the bottom? Will I live to see the end? Am I broken? A question that I keep asking myself. Lost to the void, the disillusionment I call my reality. I can’t seem to find the answers. So I will keep falling. Tumbling. Trudging through this path. Taking everything with a grain of salt and rolling with the punches. Low blow, knocking the wind out of me and inducing nausea, after low blow. Harder, I would scream. I like to feel the pain, I would say. It makes me feel alive! I would tell people. I see a light, but I feel it’s far too late. I guess I will just roll with the punches.

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