It's only a bad day. It's only a bad day. It's only a bad day. It's only a bad day. I hope this chanting will make me feel better.
I've had a shit day today. So all my angst, hot tears, which I bravely held back of course - I attribute everything to my intense frustration from today's string of unfortunate events.
Bus rides are becoming philosophical for me. I have monologues in my head which I ask countless questions and attempt to answer them myself.
Is this what growing up is like? Simply having more unanswered questions? More weight on your shoulders?
Carefree - does anyone know this word still? I suspect that even the most carefree person in this world cared about something.
And of course the quintessential questions - so what is meaning of life? Who am I? What makes me, me?
Perhaps, it's only a bad day.
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