A cup of hot coffee in my hand, and a newspaper in my lap. I'm looking through the window at the black and scary trees that look like monsters. I can't see anything else but those monsters and the crows that are perched on the bows. I'm thinking about shutting everything down and going to bed. It's no use. I don't have any reason to keep going.

I'm in no mood to write this. It's late, and I can't concentrate because I've had a beer. I think I'm over for now.