I’ll make it, I think

I won’t leave this journey alive, in fact, none of us will, but I’ll be damned if I go down without a fight. I’ve been lied to, spat on, stepped on, used, abused, scarred, scraped, and wear it all in tattoos. Life is only what I can make it; in essence, I have the power to choose. I don’t know why I’m afraid because I’ve really got nothing to lose. If anything, iv got something to prove, but it’s hard to move with a tightening noose. Don’t be sad when I’m gone; I’m just another dude with more than a few screws loose.