The long term predicament

Supposing that I accept your foolish premise which results to an dreading state of mind, it still doesn’t change the fact that this, as in THIS moment is still the worst moment ever. What else should I do with an aging and rotting place? Where I can find no one else but a friend which happens to be subliminally affected by strange and convulsed thoughts?

This has been my long time predicament. Something is wrong, and everybody can tell. Algebraically speaking, there are to many unknowns, and no equation to ever solve even one of them. I dread the times when I feel so reluctant to tell everybody that I have done nothing. Why should I be embarrassed to tell that I’m nothing but a worthless crap? Nothing better than a shoe box without the shoe,  and only as good as the coffee when it’s not hot.

The tides have changed, never will the sides be the same.

There’s no more blood to spill, no more pills to swallow, and no more life to waste.

We’ll talk in the morning.