SUBSTANCE IS MADE TO BE ABUSED
Another year, another grey hair
And yet another notch on a belt that has failed to support my britches for eons
I don't mind running around with my pants around my ankles
As far as I know, nobody else minds either
I have heard no complaints
Is it possible to have a midlife crisis before you turn thirty?
TOO OLD TO BE LAZY, TOO YOUNG TO BE TIRED
I don't want to whine
... wait, yes I do ...
Only at the moment of one's death will they realize that life was real and not just a dream
The world is the place we prove real by dying in it
But what is wrong with living the dream?
I like to think I can fly
Impregnate Natalie Portman
But we all have our own alarm clocks
Someone or something to bitch-slap us into consciousness
Back to the world of the rational
Back to the place where death brings confirmation as well as conclusion
DEATH, YOU ARE MY BITCH LOVER
I miss my pillow
I want to sleep