breathe

It's almost nine thirty at night, and I don't have any missed calls, it's likely that you've already given up on me, and I don't care about the shit you say, I go to bed at ten o'clock and think about life, what could life be up to for me?

I think one more time, and again and again and again. I have to breathe and say, that everything is in control, even though nothing is right I just have to breathe.