Guess who needs a life? I do, I do. I'm incredibly unsatisfied with my life right now- which wouldn't be a problem, if only I knew
why I'm not satisfied. If I could look a my life and say, "This is making me unhappy", then I could change it and go about the rest of my meaningless existence. But I can't do it.
Oy. Anyways. I think I have pneumonia.
You take pieces of me you never wanted
And cast them to the waves;
I'm left with these shattered remnants
and in the end, I know they'll simply scatter.
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