Today is one of those days in which everything hurts, in which I am upset, in which I am not dying to talk to anyone, today I do not tolerate anything, today no one believes me, today no one trusts me, today is another day in which I even hate what I like the most, I hate radishes in my breakfast, I hate that silly bread that presumes to taste delicious soaked in coffee.
I hate those stupid 1968 albums that supposedly changed music, I hate the damn sound of falling water, my shadow on the streets and the screams of infants.
I hate that implausible Charlie Kaufman script that made me cry like a bastard, I hate my parents' voices, I hate being told what to do, I already know what to do, I'm supposed to know what to do.
Who left the radio on, and why the hell did a drone spy on us through the window, why the hell are they watching me, what do they care about me, why do some people find those silly bird sounds soothing, what do they know that I don't, will they all hate me, is it me that's wrong, I just want to smile for at least a minute, where are you, will tomorrow be like this?
I think so, dammit.
Photography by Richard P J Lambert
