Give me a cold bottle of coke
And wring me till i choke

This extra large burger barely fills
Not nuff to take my throw up pills

Get the huge sack of potato chips
I shall stuff it ‘tween my cola sips

When will it ever cease
Or cut down before it’s all done
I’m loving this fast food disease
Stop? I haven’t yet begun

All those days of not sleeping on it; all those days I gave in sacrifice to completing it, overcoming it seemed so long and never ending.

Earphones, black. Seemed to be the only thing in the world that wasn’t against me.

Hour after hour. Miles of ink. Acres of paper. Yet the monster wouldn’t die.

Lengths of lead. Sheafs of graphs. The monster was still hungry.

One day. Of determination. Will. Completion. Confirmed. Happening. Happened.

Happiness.

Short-lived.

Lab exams be uncles to records, man!

Stale rat carcass on a silent desolate street. Hungry ravens fluttering. They fight to steal an early  morsel. I wish that was the only worse thing that could have tainted the morning scene. But no. This city reeks from things far foul than just rodent corpses. A thick hazel grey layer of smog envelopes what remains of the green that was once before. Devils and dust. I progress in to the wasted abyss. The glowing , growing sunlight brings no hope. Only illuminates and unveils the disturbing sight of people. Small, large, white, black, corpulent, wispy, ugly, uglier and ugliest. They do come in all unqiue shapes and sizes. Each one as defective as the other. The sight of a crowd is most grotesque and vile. So very smothering. There is barely enough space on this flyspeck, blue piece of rock. Barely enough air to breathe from what is left. From what the atmosphere can spare for now. Fresh and slithering vomit, emanating from a noisy, people-choked bus’s window. It struggles through slow and deafening traffic.