I believe

we are made out of failures.

A great pile of it.

Throughout the day, week, years,
all we do is striving to make righteousness out of our failures.
Seek ways so that our failures may be justified, socially corrected.
That we may eloquently accept them.
Hence we find that little rented space we’ve been occupying becomes little bit less strangling.

Like always, there are darns that fortunate enough
to be granted with inborn talent of making things right:
pretty, jaunty, lovely, handsome bearings.
Instant darlings.
While some others have to work it out hard–pretty damn hard.

No doubt some are failing, ending up delving into failures all the time
for the rest of his live without knowing he’s entrapped so because he didn’t struggle enough
he didn’t work it out hard enough–he’s been tingling at the most rear side of being risky

But I don’t want to end up being one, I don’t want to–

So I made myself into one big failure
everyone talked about but no one wants to talk to.

There is no thing such as turning back to the point where you’ve set leaving
Once failure will always be a failure

Hence I learn to live with failures

To live with scars grazed upon your skin
Dirt smeared to your face
Becoming laugh thing

…Something I’m too innately dumb to learn by myself

without having any force-majeurs.