Striker To Substitute

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From frontline to the alternate seat. 

"Call me whenever you want to quit. I'll come to help you one day or two." She smiled, put the shape of phone made by her fingers next to her right ear. 

"Okay." I replied while the brain was busy with something else.

She didn't left, she stood right in front of me, reaching out her arms. I reached out to her and hugged her a goodbye.

 In this battlefield all alone now.

What doesn't kill you make you stronger, and thinner.

I could the land like a tiller in less than 10 minutes, breathing steadily afterwards.

What could each time caused me backpain for one week can hurt me no more, my mind couldn't even stay on it for a second. Finally, I fell nothing, just like a bot. 

In a world where self-value is equal to the digits, I won't let any easy silly simple chance of digit-growth slip away. 

Enjoy your retirement, I won't call. 

There are some jobs the masses despise and refuse to do even with pay, because nobody cares about your shit. History shall remember the current me, and write me a carol for all the pain and suffering I've chewed and swallowed like the sweetest candies.


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