I wait. My whole life, my whole existence, is waiting. For sign, or event, for health, for change.
I've done all right, haven't I? Five months and two days ago I promised "character assasination and the final suicide of self-concept..." Yes, and look at me. Short of money, locked in a lease and a meaningless, nonentity job: girlfriend gone, sick, completely clueless.
Yeah, I've done all right.
klik if you demand tedious explanations of every little thing.
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