Today is a repetition of yesterday. What is the purpose. Work, eat, shit, sleep. Work, eat, shit, sleep. It would be easy to break the cycle. To call in sick, and run naked down the streets. To kiss the first pretty girl I see, and lie down in the middle of the road.



Writing's hurting my head for some time. Because there are so many things I want to write about. I know I have to. To write.