we had things in the littler times,
we had things we called our own,
we made these cast off things our own;
sometimes broken,
most times used,
no matter – this press board, this garbage, this shit,
it became ours. it was our shit,
and we made it better.

but

it was still shit.
just because it became ours,
just because we made it our own,
just because we did the best,
the best we could with it,
it doesn’t change the fact that
it was still shit and we knew it.

don’t ever think that taking it in
made it better somehow.