Pretty ironic in contrast to the being-contentism downstairs.                   

BUT just could not help but shit it off, making complaints, 
seeking some relief.

So that's why I'm still here, 21:55. ( I wonder why, too) 
Tired of overtime, sick of overload.

So I am worn out, I'm bored. 
For the first time I miss my nasty room.
Nothing more to say, while fragiled, only yearning for 
a voice I miss much. 

Thus I made a phone call, feeling contented.

有時候，挺羨慕笑點哭點都很低的人，記不住多少情緒的那種。

Anything finally you'll get over, I guess. 
No matter how much you loathe it.


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