Seven years of coffee stains and fluorescent dreams just ended with a click of a door. My resignation letter—three lines long, shorter than any memo I ever wrote before. No applause. No fireworks. Just the sound of my own breath, a little too fast, a little too deep— like my lungs know there's nothing left. I'm all in, no halfway, no rewind. One step off, now the ground's behind. No safety net, no second guess, Just fire in my chest—nothing less. I don't know how, but I know it's time. Sink or swim, live or die— I'm all in. The road stretches long, no signs, no turns. The city shrinking in my rearview, nothing but sky ahead, a sky too big to fit inside that old life. Wasn't crazy enough to believe I'd win, but too restless to stay put. Some bets don't wait for logic— they just pull you in and dare you to run. I'm all in, no shelter, no disguise. One leap made, now I'm splitting skies. No safety net, no second guess, Just fire in my chest—nothing less. I don't know how, but I know it's right. Break or bend, dark or light— I'm all in. There's a moment when the fear turns gold, When doubt becomes a door. When everything you've never done Becomes everything you're living for. Maybe I soar, maybe I crash, Maybe I burn to something better than I've been— I'm all in, all blood, all bone, all fight. One life lived, now I'm burning bright. No looking back, no regrets to nurse, Just thunder in my veins—universe. I don't know where, but I know I'm free. Fly or fall, lose or be— I'm all in. (I'm all in) (I'm all the way in)
