Day six.

Why does it feel so heavy in my head these days. Why is there always something that remains to be done. Why can’t this coffee be a bit more bitter. Why is it that it always rains here, but there never is a rainbow. Why does this city smell of disgust and death and rot. Why do I feel so burdened, as if the entire world rests on top of my head. Why is there never a feeling that I have reached somewhere. Why is the sky here always pale, never blue, never red. Why are the buildings and homes here so colourless. Why is everything here so fucking colourless. Why do I live in black and white. What are these creatures that screech all night. Why doesn’t the world just give me a fucking break.

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