The fuck…

Let’s talk about it. Care. How many fucks do you actually have to give? When reverting back to self to making sure you’re ok. Like a revolving door allowing emotions to come and go. Honestly, we’re just looking after our own well being when it’s all said and done. Loosening up to coexist for moments as we accumulate memories so we don’t feel so alone. But like faces that transform from one luv’rs shape to the next and the one that comes after and so forth. We’re the only one that remains through it all. Having just enough compassion for others until it’s cut off time. Then if they die, so be it if that’s what occurs. How many fu’s will it take to counter that cloud floating high in the sky as we fall like the rain? Back to the beginning of the reevaluating circumstances to move on in a different mindset on who’s who in this world. We can relate and we can decide who’s worth a fuck. For so long they’ll play the part until they don’t feel like self anymore. When the feeling fades from the texture of the heart. We’re all just strangers who have met that are on our own quest to live it up. So how many lies can you tell another’s reassurance that wants a norm to fit? The tongue don’t care if you listen to it when no one’s around. Truths are truth in the silence in which we hide. There’s only certain fucks that amount to anything. Fuck you, fuck off, fuck me, fuck it. Being fuckin done just means self won’t turn on self. Giving clarity that proves luv is selfish. For fuck’s sake, just hear the usefulness of the facts. Maybe then you’ll appreciate life from a mindset that makes sense as it happens. Knowing periodically the good shines through to be seen by eyes that are not of or own. As someone else is testing their own fucks to live for a while…