all we really have

i wake up every morning from a night of interrupted sleep to a world full of people living their meaningless lives and telling their innocent lies... believing that they're better than they want to believe. having faith in the stories in the sky. escaping what's real and true. but i don't believe in something just to say that i believe. and i don't so much believe in this sense of self-belief, either. so if all we really have is faith in ourselves... then what do i really have at all?

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