Whatever

Whatever

Its late there is only one light on, the music doesnt play anymore
because it fears disturbing the sleep patterns of others.

only dee dee is appearing willing and still I hide from her.

The box screems infomation at me. The stolen materials still continue
to arrive.

Many hours yet before they are done I fear.

The need for music becomes apparent as the hands tick.

all I have left is an empty bowl of dried cerial remains and a will to
survive.

lots to look forward to/little to hope for.

My time hear is wasted/I wait for the moments to pass

I am not living, just killing time

I work only on reactions and desire.

the music plays now (its isolated)

fealing of desire slips away.

content.

now maybe thease hours will never end.

Maybe I will live for the last one

maybe the next will come quicker.

Lots to look forward too.

Sorry I shouldn't of botherd you.