Anxiety by beethy.
Yeah, well, so it goes.
Cut off your hair, unplug your phone. Crash your car, burn down your home. Sell your belongings, all your clever drawings. Try to make a dollar from the grave.
Try to forget all them enemies and debts, they’ll just chase you round and give you sour dreams. Or struggle all you like, put up the good fight they say but someday everybody dies alone. But hey, who knows?