Maybe the yawn induced lack of resent has its reasons. Maybe, like, if the word like, like, weren't so like, like, liking likes would be easier. Maybe if words met at some point, the lonely speaker would incite a reason. But it doesn't, it rarely did. Maybe if early truths had been acknowledged this sick shit wouldn't drag. Maybe if I could say shit without feeling bad. Maybe if lacrimation weren't so obnoxiously poetic, so dauntingly over done over details that were supposedly upsetting. Maybe if Kanye had talent to display, or if he felt human in any single fucking way. Maybe if nice were just nice and not weak. Maybe if talents weren't overshadowed. Maybe if passion were stronger than cheap realizations, or if getting poetic didn't feel like building entire civilizations. Maybe the mistakes were fate.