One for the road.

No, I'm not saying that life is wonderful or anywhere near perfect but it's liveable... Isn't it?

My life is like paper, wafer thin.
I was made from someone else.
I will be torn, shredded, chewed up and spat out.
My life will be written and then re-written.
I am nothing more than one sheet of the worlds shittiest paper.
The piece that no one wanted.
The piece that they threw away.

But it's okay... because he is made from the same shitty tree as me.