For someone who thinks time goes too fast,
It’s going way too slow.
The cowardly sun retreats
Behind clouds for days,
Leaving me here, in bed,
Staring at the ceiling
Wishing for the day to end.
I don’t want to work,
It’s raining outside
And I can’t bring myself to
Put on a customer service smile
That others find so easily on their face.
Everything is meaningless under the sun,
Why do I live?
Only a multitude of factors could ever
Bring me to an abysmal thought,
And again I am lost in a small crevice,
As if I melted into the cracks
Of summertime sadness
Evoked by the 40° weather.
The cold winds of summer never seem to make sense,
Perhaps that’s why my body torments me so,
It doesn’t make sense.
Perhaps, I should eat –
Physical fulfilment translates into:
Maybe I’m just being melodramatic,
All you have to do is indulge yourself,
And the darkness disappears.
It’s a temporary satisfaction
That will always invite your dissatisfaction
To infect your heart.
Life is meaningless under the sun.
水 