A Brave Face I feel so fucking tired, I've been putting on a brave face for so fucking long. My life has stalled, I wait every day til 4 'O' Clock, or so, when I start drinking. That's all I do, wait, and drink. I don't know what to do. No way am I going to listen to a smug, sexless counsellor trying to tell me what I should be doing with my life. Those idiots don't know a thing about me, or my life, they never, ever will. They've probably smoked a few spliffs at University, have they known smack withdrawal ? Have they known the alkies feeling of needing an eye opener as soon as they wake up ? Have they fuck ! Phonies ! Phonies, and fakes ! I'll die before I'll prostate myself before any of those middle class fakers. I have tried, believe me I've tried. They were useless, worse than useless. Thy haven't got a fuckin' Scooby. I felt worse after their kind of false concern, and total bullshit idea of empathy. I feel so fucking tired, but nobody knows me better than me. I'll sort it out, myself, and if I don't ? Well, it's alright Ma, it's life, and life only.