Runaway. Run.

In the mish mash hurry of things suddenly you stop for a second and realise that you’re heading nowhere so you quickly turn a little and try another direction but when you reach the dead end its time to try another way and you continue running and it doesn’t matter that everything around is such a blur, you’re already used to the noise around by now so you think you’re doing fine because in reality you are noticing nothing around you because you are so busy running and as long as you’re not noticing anything, you don’t really realise how anything is affecting you and you start to believe you’re made out of steel and in the speed that you’re in that even the pain from the bullet wound seems to feel like something blunt pressing against you for a second but there is no time to stop and figure out what is happening because then you’ll get left behind so you continue to run and sometimes you wonder where you are actually heading but it’s worthless thinking that because you won’t be able to spend much time there anyway and honestly, you wouldn’t even know if you’re crossing the same path twice or maybe even thrice because you cannot turn but just run along and what is gone is lost and what is to come doesn’t matter.

And when you finally stop to catch your breath, it’s the last that you’ll ever breathe.

What really is the point in all the running around?

You only gotta do one thing well to make it in this world, babe.
You got a woman waiting for you there,
All you ever gotta do is be a good man one time to one woman
And that’ll be the end of the road, babe,
I know you got more tears to share, babe,
So come on, come on, come on, come on, come on,
And cry, cry baby, cry baby, cry baby.