End. Just end.
Crumpled notes, tattered handouts.
I loathe the sight of them.
Reading the familiar text and information just invokes waves of nausea;
A dull churning in my stomach.
I guess this is what u call getting jaded.
Reading and re-reading the same lines and words.
It's a wonder these sheets of paper are not found among my trash by now.
Lethagic mind, body, brain.
Is everyone like me?
Wishing nothing, only for the whole torture to end,
As soon as possible,
Before it drives the sanity,
Or what's left of it
Out of the mind.
I'm exhausted.
Don't bother me.
I just want to sleep.
Dont wake me.
