The Boiling Point

May it be that it's the end of the year, and one always feel a little bit on the razor's edge, but I truly feel that this feeling of sheer strangeness could really not go away.

It's at the point where I could snap.

Where I'm already bent and the last thing is left where I am going to break.

I have no patience because there's no time.

You give me attitude, you'll never see my face again.

My memory's warped.

I'm so tired.