The pile of work stares at me, and I stare back at it, without caring to finish it. I don't much care about the work, neither do I care about the second round of dinner I hog, the second bar of chocolate I finish, the lethargy, the loneliness, the quiet, and the world. For a change, I feel content, regardless of so many imperfections in my life. Applause.
No comments:
Post a Comment