Returning home,
returning home alone,
returning home after another day of work,
with not a lot to write home about,
an empty day,
the usual grind,
dull of heart and dull of mind,
returning home,
thinking about life,
and the over complexities of it all,
struggling,
struggling the whole day through,
and not feeling good at all,
and questioning what life is about,
for it is nothing to write home about at all,
an empty day of boredom and inanity,
time wasted in the daily grind, time wasted,
time wasted lining other people’s pockets,
and not doing much for my mind,
but glad to be home, glad to be home,
but seriously thinking of giving it all up,
because it is only but insufferable,
insufferable and not much good at all,
time for change, time for change before I go insane,
time for change,
because rather than just existing,
which is the bane of my life after all,
I would rather live a life that is memorable,
I would rather live a life that is memorable,
for what good is a meaningless life after all,
so, stuff it all, I think,
it is enough to drive you into permanent depression,
and into alcoholism,
and what good is that, living on the precipice,
living on the edge,
and with nothing to show for it all,
so, stuff it all, I think,
I am quitting this life and the daily grind of it all,
for it will only kill me early,
and I would rather be on holiday,
and travelling and reconsidering it all,
and after all, life is far too short to suffer through it all.