tHis dAy

There is a gnaw to the diet of life, a tearing that is slowly brutal. Then work and alcohol take their pay and I am left hollowed.

The point being that it's Friday and I'm wiped. Worn out. No job should leave us this way. Some weeks weigh my ivory lies and the piano keeps on ticking. Etc...

On the bright side: wind

On the bright side: leaves

And again, the drums of sleep