Opening

Here i sit, just a Victim of Life

When will the day come? When will I enter into that eutopia? Am I already here? I think not. Today I will go to work...it's inevitable. I will help people in thier time of need there, but will anyone help me? I think not. Then I will come home to this empty house agian, I'm sure that by then my stomach will have grown sick. I will get on my computer and try to act socially, cordially to people with whom I have no "real" relationship with. What for? Am I so used to helping others in the search for my own happiness that I don't even argue with such things? Yet it is possible to not understand one's own self. And here I sit agian, in this padded chair, a Victim of my own life.