Sat in Vicky Park, let it all out, to a bottle, on a bench.
He said “This city is a criminal, a highwayman, a thief.
It stole my perseverance, made off with my mental health, dumped me off of Tower with concrete on my feet and I’m struggling.
I’m looking for some guidance, can you spare an ounce of strength so I can take this f*cking sorry arse of mine back home to bed?” and the bottle, it said, “Everybody makes decisions they regret sometimes, everyone makes certain judgments based on plans that never seem to find their way to a conclusion.
They change tack and double back on promises they made to themselves.
But you won’t find the answers at the bottle of a bottle, cheap cider never paved the way for any kind of progress to be made but for what its worth there’s one thing that I know; You’ve got to let some parts die to let other parts grow.” You’ll always make mistakes, you’ll always f*ck shit up.
You’ll sometimes make bad choices and blame that shit on bad luck.
You will often face decisions that you do not want to make and find your self on paths that you did not mean to take.
There is always an answer, there is always a lesson, a lining of silver about every situation and asking for help is not the same thing as failing.