I don't remember the point that life became truly difficult. I must have been asleep. Or drunk. Because somewhere alone the way, I lost it. And I'm all alone, more than half the time. And I don't know what to do. I don't think this will get any easier. Or maybe I do. It'll be that last year. Maybe then it'll be more feasible, because then the light at the tunnel will actually be visible. It won't be abstract, it'll be real. And maybe this fairy tale will actually appear on the page. But now, I'm just rambling to an empty room.