No idea what my landlord is doing in the garden at 8 at night because at 8 at night, really nothing is visible here. By 8 at night, it gets really dark, so dark you can’t see even your own dick were you standing in the garden. Ding Dong. The old woman has arrived with my parcel. I throw the parcel away on sofa and head back to my bedroom and sit in my chair. It is Friday and I am thinking about Saturday already. It is Friday and Friday can go to hell as well. All days are the same and I am dead. Thinking about opening the beer bottle. Tomorrow is just another day and the landlord will be back in the garden with or without his dick, doing some shit around just like he did today.
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Tomic Riter 
One thought on “Tomorrow is just another day.”