you are a satin noose

It's eight in the morning and I'm sitting on my employer's dinner table, waiting for the kids to finish breakfast. It's ten times hotter in Lafayette than Fremont and I'm already contemplating turning on the air conditioning. I'm tired from the night before but not hungover. I kept promising to black out but never actually achieved it because I was just that tired. But I'm always this tired. Tired all the time because my youth is at its closing ceremony (if it hasn't had it already). This is what it feels like to have make money. And I thought having money would make me feel secured even for just a minute. But I'm now more stressed about it than ever before. It's tiring. I'm fucking tired. I feel old and dead. And I never having anything better to say.