Failure in Traumatic Colors

2:44AM, on a bike, bleary eyed, heavy heart, orange lights, a soundtrack for the times that's more emo than the College collection. I think, fuck you Beijing, why do you make me crawl home at the ungodly hours with my stomach in a knot. Even worse is this ridiculous craving for raw instant noodles, the kind you ate during second grade. You'd pour the pocket of MSG flavoring all over it and eat it with a crunch, but the majority of the flavor would be devoured in that one bite but that's okay because the raw noodles themselves are just as good. When life was simple all you cared about was how to devour raw instant noodles after extra sessions of math class. It's a single-minded goal delivered with the most satisfying bite. Instead we're here again Beijing, at your ungodly hours, at your service, at your fucking whim.

and I'm sorry for it already, I'm so sorry.