Tokyo Ueno Station

But then what of me remains here?

A sense of tiredness.

I was always tired.

There was never a time I was not tired.

Not when life had its claws in me, and not when I escaped from it.

I did not live with intent, I only lived.

There was never a time I was not tired.

Not when life had its claws in me, and not when I escaped from it.

I did not live with intent, I only lived.

worst of all was how unlucky I was.

I had no luck.