Somedays you feel useless. Like all the good times are gone. You keep on wonder if it ever will come something back with a meaning. With a purpose. With a injection of lust for life. You just stand there. It is all grey. It is cold. So cold but grey. Just grey and empty. Will your next supper be the last supper. Will you just give it all up and let it go. Maybe you want to punish all the near, supplying you cold feelings every day. Like they do exist in every breath you take. They are the reason why you stopped doing certain things. They took after you and they are there. Just why are they there? Why did you let them climb into your garden and steal all your apples except the last few ones. They smashed them infront of the ones tou thought you could trust. You turn into nothing and you just want out. Away.

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