As the alcohol overcomes my mind, I hear the glass bottle shatter on the floor. This seems appropriate since I have obviously lost my grip on everything.
I think I'm a clinical worrier, I worry about everything and I've always been that way. I want to make sure that everything works out as planned and I just get lost in my worries and fears. As if that isn't enough, I also worry about everybody else and try to carry their burden. It's like I'm trying to carry the weight of the whole world on my shoulders.
And all at once I lost my breath
And all at once was scared to death
For all at once I owned the earth and sky.
Now I've met Miss Jones
We'll keep on meeting till we die,
Yes, Miss Jones and I.
I swing big, with everything I've got. I hit big or I miss big. I like to live as big as I can.
I set out as a steeplejack in my youth to preserve chimneys. I've finished by knocking most of them down.
I've often lost myself,
in order to find the burn that keeps everything awake
I found out early that you can throw yourself away, missing what you've lost.
I've missed over 9,000 shots in my career.
I've lost almost 300 games.
26 times I've been trusted to take the game-winning shot and missed.
I've failed over and over and over again in my life.
And that is why I succeed.
I've learned…. That opportunities are never lost; someone will take the ones you miss.
Out of all the things I have lost, I miss my mind the most.