Thursday, 6 August 2015
Another Shit Thursday Morning
Oh this fucking rain. This fucking pain. This fucking superfluous invective and choice of rhyme again. Everything repeats itself. And I wonder is the end all we ever really seek and is death what we most desire? I enjoy coming because it means I've reached the end of something. Beginnings can be great but the middle carries the most burdensome of weights. And when love is left untouched, it just turns to resentment and hate.