A much romanticized concept.
The central theme of so many blues songs.
Tell me - have you paid your dues if you have spent a lifetime in psychological warfare with your own mind? Does that count?
Or do you have to become a drug addict who loses control, loses everything including family, friends, job, home, self-respect - living on the street getting your ass kicked by wandering scumbags every day? Is that what it takes?
Who gets to define what pain is?
Who gets to decide when a person is broken?
Do you really need to see blood, broken bones and crawling in filth?
Or are hopeless eyes enough?
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