The sound of dripping rain beating a frail window,
enhancing the tick-tocking noise in my head.
Against the shivering glass, I cannot hear my own
sobbing anymore. That way, maybe I can learn to
forget and forgive myself?

I'm not interesting, I'm interested. [Boris Vian]
 [bad word] perfume of urine mixed with
mediocrity, it's a matter of appreciating what you [bad word] know. It's a cynical point of view from a
back alley to a crowded main street in broad
daylight. I could've been saved you know... (a
pretty girl who just passed by, smiled at me) Only
to realize that she was actually smiling at
somebody else she knew right aside me. I'm not
good at being noticed.

There's not a chance in the world that I could
possibly erase all the oily fingerprints I've left
on everything I've done that I'm not too proud of.

Yet I still think about all this crying, arguing,
and fighting, was good for nothing if in the end I
didn't kill her...