Stayin' Alive.

Sick, derisive fantasies
Pick their way through your
Skull
To your already overflowing
Brain.

The better sensed part of you
Tells you to
Stop.
But you don’t stop.
You can’t
Stop.

In the
Rundown, broken
House of your thoughts,
This is the corner in which you finally find
Peace.

This is your salvation.
This is your safety box.

This is a lie.

But at least you’re happy.
At least you’re hopeful.
At least you’re
Laughing.

Bless these thrills, they rest on grains of sand.
So live them up,
While the wind is still.

Goodbye, dismal light.
Hello, dim Utopia.

Writings on the wall.

I don't hold much with superstition.

But storm-like rain, 4 minutes before my results?

Doesn't make me feel too good.
No.
Not good at all.