Thinking...
The mind is a weird thing isn't it? That voice that everybody has. That voice that tells you what to do. The voice that you argue with when you aren't sure of something. When you're laying alone in bed, the voice can be the only thing to keep you company. It can either reassure you that everything is going to be alright. Or it's that voice that drives you insane. It questions what you are doing with your life. It questions the ways of this fucked up world. Laying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. Even if you aren't talking out loud, you're having a conversation with yourself. Asking why. Why can't life be simpler? It always seemed so easy growing up. Always wanting to be older so you can do cool stuff like driving a car, riding a motorbike and going out for a drink. You leave school, get thrown into this swirling shit hole called life. You have to find a job, yet it never pays enough. Everything is so fucking expensive! You do