Slowly the poison the whole blood stream fills. It is not the effort nor the failure tires. The waste remains, the waste remains and kills.
“My dad, we'll be talking about goals for the next year. He's like, 'I think you can be here,' and I look at him like he's cross-eyed, like, 'Are you serious? That's so far out of my reach.' Well, then I always end up achieving it.”