and we're exactly the same as we were then. still plagued by phantom ambition. still moping through the drudgery of filth & stink. it's hot, loud, and boringasfuck.
irony is not a subtle bitch either.
not only is said misery exactly the same, but it's in the precisely same location. the names have changed (including ours) but everything else has not.
yet now there's actual physical pain to accompany the slow-death-by-hourly-wage. the ache once only felt in this spirit is now deep within the bones and its crying out feebly for mercy.