I Can Form a Paragraph of Thought

I fell asleep at the wheel of life and woke up to this piece of shit car careening off the road.

I ran your treadmills, raced your races. I ate your shitty food, smiled at your ugly faces. I gave up weekends, cut back on the drinking, I took your medications to succumb to normal thinking. Hell, I kept my temper when you could not, I gave up powders, I gave up pot. I ran in circles, I ran in squares, I ran into disgusting women who gave nasty stares. Sure I never cried, but I made sure you did. So what? I'm 31 but I'm still just a kid. I tore through your lives making a mockery of it all, fuck you if you didn't enjoy it, I had a ball. But now we come to this odd fork in the road, should I go left or should I go right? Or should I drink more and put it off for another night? Trying to sleep to the clankity-clack of your shitty opinion and the monkey on my back.