Failure is a reserve for those alive. It is a privilege for those who can breathe.
Yet I find daily a need to preserve my perceived perfections, so dire no taint is permitted.
What they call the overnight success is what I beg for. The one where the night birthed in the perils of try and err is surpassed.
I honour myself and keep wishing to only wake to a dawn that beholds the new life promised.
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