There are too much wounds within me; being drained to the last drop of sweat, I never have enough rest. My brain no longer functions well anymore and that my most impressive inspiration has ditched me, drawing thick paint across a boundary of insanity from me. My eyelids are caressing each other, alluring the retreat to my mattress; but my legs are refusing to move; I am paralysed. I am not able to take craps anymore, blowing out each time inconsiderate people adds burden to my workload. I curse, I swear and I am doing things to vent my angers on. You never know I am so tired until you see me doze off each night at any place.