And I'm not always at work but that'd how it feels and it feels like I'm watching my life slip away trying to afford to have a roof over my head.
and you have the cheek to call us entitled. Yet this is adulthood and this is what we were taught to prepare for.
I shouldn't be surprised.
"Are you happy? i'll decide, these stories are so warm how they match your eyes"
"Well everybody wants a part of my black feathers, black feathers"
It's not a beach life like others. It's stones and muddy sand between the toes. It's cold murky water and trying to find crabs. It's a seagull shitting on you (apparently good luck?) I don't know much but I do know this: I couldn't live in a city again. I need the sea like I need oxygen.
I appreciate the beach, the sea even more when I'm always at work.