last night
I don't want to do anything.
Time is nothing. Everything stands still. Nothing is getting easier. It's only getting harder.
Every sign is an insult.
I am what you hate.
How is it that you do things exactly how they would annoy me most?
Endless scenarios where you don't care, you don't listen, playing with fire thinking I will never find out.
No more trading territory.
Please come back.
An hour on a call together.
I'm not living. I'm already dead.