How was it supposed to end? How did I really wanted it to end?
Its sunday afternoon in the office and I really want to gulp down a shot of whiskey.
I am surrounded by professionals! Me? Well, me not one of them.
Me, just a old fuck soul.
Pretending to work and patiently waiting for a pay day to buy some weed or alcohol later on;
to get through the night.
\"What\'s life if it ain\'t worth living, what\'s death if it ain\'t worth leaving?\"
I hate meself for years for treating her like that. Later on, I realized it wasn\'t the guilt inside me.
It really was the moment that I wanted to feel being with her, nothing more.
I didn\'t wanted her body, affection or soul or some petty thing called love.
I wanted to feel that moment or be in that moment.
On my deathbed I will surely forget their faces, names or what was it like to fuck them.
But I will surely remember that I had good times.
Better than those intellectual fucks, them so called genius or wise fuckers!