Fortune.

It's so goddamn hilarious, to a point
where my sides are splitting and my
guts are all over this page. To an
extent where my rib cage is dancing
with my diaphragm, making me double
over in fits of rage. Bloody funny:
that it leaves me delirious and silently
heaving; spitting my teeth into my hands
in hope of saving them for luck. I mean,
what's life anymore if you don't have a 
little charm? Fuck those who say they
can read my palm and tell me when I'll 
have my last day. If I feel like ending
this farce, then trust me, I'll cut away.
Draw me up a new card; file it under renegade.