Today I Am a Cynic

I don’t know how I got here
or if it matters
I will never fall in love if I can’t believe
And who created this world anyways, do we know?
Or is it speculation?
I can count the stars and still feel big
I can breathe my own air and still think
I told my lungs to inhale
I can pull this trigger and feel invincible
It’s a matter of choice, not plan
But who will I become if I never believe?
Well I don’t feel like believing
in anything, but I’m still alive

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