the thoughts swirl about in my mind like a tornado. They rush by faster than I can catch them and I’m left holding a telephone pole for dear life just trying to make it out alive.
No one ever does though. We all die in the end.
Maybe, if I get through this, I’ll end up with a story. There has to be a reason. Doesn’t there?
I don’t know what the meaning of this life is, and honestly, I’m so mentally worn out at the moment to figure it out.