Alive at 7 45 has become a
routine. Something I forced myself to do. With an empty stomach, I'd trudge
along the narrow winding pavement with only Adele's on repeat. Then fer the
next 40 mins, everything's a whiz plus cramping my style plus sleepy plus
real tired on the legs and the feet and the toes. I'd have to deal with voices
(insert rude/miang/questioning/sleepy/zombified voices) and the sounds of
beep beep beeps fer the next 5 hours stopping only fer a little little short
short break. I'd smile to that magnifique song but brood at most of the
other boring boring ones. I'd only smile with my eyes when $'s in these hands of
mine. Or else, expect nothing.