cobblestones

my life right now is tantamount to the paris-roubaix. on a good day i'd expect to finish the race if lady luck was on my side. on a bad day, well nothing goes right really.


the little things - daily, weekly routines and obstacles are synonymous with the rough and unforgiving cobblestones of the hell of the north. only those who have the strongest legs will survive. and my legs are just about burning.

but the difference is those who manage to finish in paris-roubaix would be looked upon as some of the best, and those who go on to win are guaranteed immortality in the pages of history. where would i be at the end of my race?

could you still finish the race if you'd crashed and crashed hard? i guess it depends on how much one can suffer. those who can suffer the most are often the survivors. and so i hang on by the skin of my teeth.

c'est la vie.


+listening to: nothing