The night's been agitated. And the bloody back has nothing to do with it. I still can't put up with what I've learned yesterday. I think it's disgust that wins the battle of feelings. Because I find it so unfair to have to live that shit again. Haven't I had my count already with my mother and what happened afterwards? Which fault do I have to redeem myself of? What am I damned for? And who can share it with me so that the burden gets less heavy?