Once again it is close to the hospital. That is, just before sucks, literally and figuratively. And I am still not flowered after chemo-Police-metaphors to describe this situation. I feel there is nothing mystical, meaningful in the air. I was just very tired decided on all this. Do not feel like it, someone pokes with a long metal in my neck vein, and then a hose there to introduce, by which one given me loathsome poisons and then a whole flood of other liquids. Do not want to fatigue, the nausea, the anorexia, the thin skin. Do not want to spatial confinement. Do not feel like the respirator without which I would not for a few days to leave the room. Not want to ... ah, forget it.
The thing is: all I had. I had enough of this already. Not even as an experience is the thing that is worth something. This is merely the repetition of the repetition of a very lousy movie. It's just the repetition of the repetition of a very lousy movie. This is merely the repetition of the repetition of a very lousy movie. This is merely the repetition of the repetition of a very lousy movie. This is merely the repetition of the repetition of a very lousy movie. This is merely the repetition of the repetition of a very lousy movie. This is merely the repetition of the repetition of a very lousy movie. This is merely the repetition of the repetition of a very lousy movie. This is merely the repetition of the repetition of a very lousy movie.
And even this joke I've ever taken.
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