Friday, August 21, 2009
Tired. Just tired. Nothing seems to be enough. And everything hurts. Again. Always waiting for something to happen. And nothing does. Or everything does. But always trammeled I am. And life goes on without me.
"I know I'll say something that's halfway clever but mostly shallow and probably inaccurate on some level. Then you'll pity me for having been born." Don DeLillo, Cosmopolis
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