I've been hit in the head with a frying pan. There's a bit of a ringing in my ears. All thoughts stem from depresson, so I sit inside my room.
I watch the walls yellow and I watch the shadows change for hours.
I've been hit in the head with a frying pan. They kicked me to the dirt, hit me, crippled me. And I can't bear to weigh my options. I can't bear to leave the house.