Revisited few of my old poems. Had to do it. It’s a pointless and important task. You might understand it or you will when you reach that point. Lots of shit needs to be written down. I hope one life will be enough, and if not, then what choice do I really have other than to write more shit. I have got a lot inside my head. Being awake is as killing as going to sleep. Sitting in the cool breeze is making my eyes heavy. I could fall asleep right now. Heck, I could die right now, with or without a virus I do not really care.
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