The summer's rain starts smashing down,
Battering the seasoned ships.
It wouldn't quite be an Irish town
Without some sodden fish and chips.
Anxiety is the thought of people as scary
And the thought of death or loneliness as comforting.
In 2016, look around and tell me it's odd.
She doesn't realise I'm madly in love with her.
She's so in love and it's beautiful
and it kills me...
I guess it's all out there now. ****.
If God exists and he is great, fair and just, why does my nose always start to itch when I'm in the shower and my hands are full of shampoo?
The better *** is so obvious on a night out,
Where there are always men
Walking around, sad and alone.
While the women always hunt in packs.
In times of extreme stress -
My peak anxiety,
I come out in terrible spots -
Just one or two
*******, why tonight?
Can you hear the drums Fernando?
The slow, pounding sounds of my heart
As it transcends the circles of time
To find that nothing has changed
Trying to assemble a completely blank jigsaw puzzle, I am torn - am I missing a piece or is this just a naturally difficult puzzle to solve?
It's only just November and I'm already dreading the inevitable loneliness, the capitalist greed, and eventual meaninglessness of Christmas.
In Wicklow, the stars shine brighter.
You'd think they would offer some inspiration,
But all they do is remind us how *******
small we are.