Fermata

I just had excessive drinking days with all friends. It was awkwardly fun and yes, it made me so short really fast. But I won't stop.

I want to get out. Out of town. Out of the city. To the country side. To the hill. To the mountains. To the beach. To the sea. And yes, it will make me so short really fast. But I won't stop.

I want to shop. Cars. Clothings. Shoes. And yes, it will make me so short really fast. But I won't stop.

I don't want any form of clarification. It's too late. No more small talks, high expectation, strong commitment, dependancy, passion for lust, whatsoever.

I want to forget life in west-end.
Stop for a while. Fermata.