T-PAIN
They say that the second day is easier than the first, and the third day is easier than the second. I try to convince myself that this is true. Incrementally, the days will get easier and easier until I can wake up and look forward to life as a labourer.
I try to count the little things. Fresh air. The liberty of moving. Showers. No showers, if you prefer. I tell myself that as long as I have autonomy and these little things, I'm not really a prisoner at all. Just a man with an allocated place to sleep, allocated food to eat, allocated role to play, allocated uniform to wear, allocated life to live.
Fred seems to be okay with all this. I think it's because he's old. But me? I've barely begun life and here I am, slaving away like there is no worth in trying.
Sometimes I look into my mind and think, damn, Tom, when did you get so depressed? When did you have such
No planes today. No incomers, no outgoers. And so it will stay for another month or two. It's like an equilibrium gone stale.
I don't know what there is to look forward to for tomorrow.
