sea2

It's still the same. All the floors and all the walls and all the rest remains...tiredness could kill a man; kill him stone dead. Between that and the monotony and the neverending sameness of everything and everyone and the need to break out sometimes gets so strong that it feels like a pain in your head or your chest and if something isn't done then that'll kill you too...We're all exchanging pleasantries no matter how we feel...and you know that you're on the verge of something, anything, anyone. One of these days you'll explode. One of these days you'll start drinking and won't stop till you're dead. Bang! Yearbooks with their autographs from friends you might have had. These are your important years...Dead, over and out, and some fucking peace at last.