Turns out, I’m a talented repairman. A messed-up wall? I’ll fix that patch, and find the perfect paint, to colour-match. A misunderstanding? I’ll shape the perfect situation, So It can be flawlessly justified. Yes. I’m a great repairman. Because after all— I’m nothing, but a destructive tenant, In the flexible lease, That is your heart.
Once I was told there was no need to be that skilled in justifying anything if I did nothing wrong from the beginning. Hit me hard.