This window is slightly cracked, enough to let in the sweet smell of death. the air in ever aspect is colder than the days before. the days before THIS day. The air before this air. The recycled oxygen that suffocates my being every fucking night, every fucking day. And i hate it more than ever. Why? Why do i put up with such nonsense? Why do i over analyze life until it is in pieces? So many that i could never put it back together again.I feel exhausted, even when i sleep. i feel no rest. it is all so uneasy.