Shit hits the fan when you're in your 30s and you're not ready isn't? You start to think about the meaning of being alive all over again... But this time, you factor in your next 5 years... Your job, your future wife, your financial status,...
Without knowing, you only have that mere 2 hours between after you clock out from your shitty job and before you sleep to do shit that you think matters...
Don't you wonder sometimes about what happened to the ideologies and dreams about changing the world through doing stuff that you have passion for?
Passion is dead... I think I'm holding on to the corpse of what used to be the only thing that matter to me...
I'm becoming a really negative fuck... And I don't like it...
