Fuck it, fuck it all to the deepest pits of hell. You believe in the japanese sayings, oh well.
Tehy all tell you the same things every time: about temples, older brothers and departures. You know the answers already, you saw them on every single street sign today. So what's the point of browsing through random pages of the random book you manage to get your hands on? Just to find an alternative? You know, that's what telephones are for.
It's about time you learn that not every handshake holds a promise and that the ticking of the clock doesn't give a shit about your feelings.
It's a fabulous thing when you realise your life has been changed, but does it have to come to this? Where are my pink tinted glasses? Where are the sparks and clouds and sunny smiles? All I have are bleak days and a staggering hope that will certainly crush me to the ground one of these days.
No more blue skies for me from now on. Next year, perhaps.
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