You get old. All of you. And yet I'm forced to be around you and all of your certainty. Sometimes I
think that ignorance might still be blissful, and I actually envy you. Ah, but only for a moment, and then you speak again. You're always speaking! Even out of turn, and on top of others...won't you ever fall silent? Do you even consider the possibility that your words may be trivial? I've found it so. You might even say meaningless entirely. But that doesn't stop you. On and On and On, with your drivel, and if that's not bad enough, you repeat yourself. Over and Over and Over! Sometimes even within the same hour. It's so exhausting...
