this is me.

the sun shone in the screen as cars passed out in the street.
it was a clear day for a lonely freak.
it was obvious to the birds outside of the window the day would have an abrupt end.
there were no wars, no comets coming down. It was just a bad stroke of depression coming down on the freak.
He thought about jumping, but it was the second floor.
It was then he thought he could write himself to death.

ps: welcome to my life