💎 PREMIUM: Id/iamtheundefined - Full Gallery 2025

Your time in college passes in the blink of an eye. You merely pay bills, read books, listen to music, and sleep. You graduate having learned nothing in particular, and ironically, you end up in the line of work you scorned the most. You travel between home and work, eyes ever-vacant, working your body into dust, and drink comes to be the only thing you look forward to. Before you know it, you're approaching your late thirties. In lonesomeness, your only hobby is to ride a motorcycle around aimlessly. But, as you yourself know, it is a dangerous hobby. The one small mercy is that no one else is injured; you are the only one in the collision. In that accident, you lose half of your face, the ability to walk, and majority of your fingers. You begin to consider going to your last resort, but... "Even so, maybe something good will still happen." Unable to let go of that sliver of hope, you cannot take the final plunge. This false hope carries you to fifty, until ultimately, you die alone, in shambles, and with nothing. Loved by no one, remembered by no one. To your last, grieving that it should not have been this way.

No matter how much I've come to understand the psychology of this universe, I still can do nothing more for a crying friend than just sit next to him.