I'm no good with Maths.

Nine times for something I didn't need.
Five times for nothing.
Once, almost, for something I needed, imagined and conjured up. That didn't exist!
And what happens now?

I'm waiting for someone who likes broken things to come along. Until then I smile and round down.

But, as me, it's less than two.

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And what is YOUR problem? I have never been noticed as little as this time. What? What? WHAT?!

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I'm just waiting... And waiting... And drinking to come to terms with it all.

2 comments:

Volatile said...

Bra skrivet.
(Det är synd att detta mitt uttalande låter så stereotypt...)

Anonymous said...

Ah, du förstod. Trevligt.

Och tack :)