Don’t much feel like…

“Don’t much feel like walking” “Don’t much feel like talking” “Don’t much feel like dying” “Don’t much feel like crying”
Looking back now, as we have all done in one light or another, I agonize and lament my actions. I feel hollow.
“Wasted talent” is a phrase I have grown to hate over these past years. It follows me like Jacob Marley, rattling his chains. I do my best to ignore the noise. Clank clank clank James. We all wear different hats; whether it be a bowler, top hat, or baseball cap. What happens when we take it off? All men are bald underneath.