Whispered words behind clos-ed doors--My ear to the wall.
Shy, dissatisfied glances my way--Should I go blind?
Records of activities, a checklist of missing items--Did I do what?
Paranoia of the resented, glares of the loathed--my curses shall fly.
If I were on twitter, this is how things would've progressed:
4.00AM : Finished watching Madea
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