Some days, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the buses are on the time, and I have dollars in my wallet... great, wonderful days, without a care in the world...
...and then days twist and turn, like today, leaving me wondering if I've been damned to a perpetual living hell, of mundane pain and few, if any, pleasures. Wondering if I did not survive the suicide attempt, that I'm now forced to trudge through my invisible existence, constantly envious and hungry, like Buddhism's hungry ghosts...
...where constant, low-level irritations crawl through my flesh while time falls away like the ocean waves; all leaving me drowning in crocodile tears.
At which point, I hope a long, hot shower can help wash away this sickness, these itches unrelieved by my little scratches...
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