How do those dancing motherfuckers do it?
Smooth, slick, effortlessly gliding along a continuum of accolades. Getting to where they are going in style and grace. They make it look so easy.
But you know it's hard. You know it's hard. At least it's hard for you.
They dance, you stumble. They dance, you fall. They dance, you crawl. They dance, your bones break.
Until you can't take it anymore.
You want to kill them, but you know you'll never catch them.
So you kill yourself.
Sweet release, eternal peace.
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