At Long Last, Freedom

Now it seems to me, some fine things
Have been laid upon your table
But you only want the ones that you can't get

Desperado, oh, you ain't getting no younger
Your pain and your hunger, they're driving you home
And freedom, oh freedom well, that's just some people talking
Your prison is walking through this world all alone

Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, open the gate
It may be raining, but there's a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you
before it's too late.

The exams may not be over, but the feeling of elation is already in this house. A kind of relief that is palpable. It came when it was least expected.

Small talk. 'Ridiculous.' That word seemed to open a window in my head, letting the sweet zephyrs of euphoria in. Unusual, it's delivery was. Not good news, neither the opposite. More like an unexplainable disgust at myself, and then, like breaking water, pure, untroubled, lightheartedness. Much like having a great load off your shoulders. I'm not thinking right. Even I myself don't know what I'm typing here. It's hard to explain.

Now, in my peculiar form of ecstacy, I found something extremely amusing. I laughed so hard at this.













My god, it's like some insane asylum. One can only guess the unspeakable horrors that take place within the corrugated tin walls. The brave people who enter this ghastly edifice should be honoured.