I work, I survive - a third of my life wasted. Fifty hours a week to quiet the desperation and fear of staying stuck on the bottom rung. Distracted by trivialities - keep me busy so I don’t have the energy to question this plight. Prostitute/team player - what’s the difference? Take my soul. Che significa vivere, davvero (What does it really mean to live, anyway)? Survival taken away and sold back to me at the price of my life. Attendo il mio colpo di fortuna (I’m awaiting my stroke of good luck). I’m on my feet and I’m sick of the routine. Because I found a spark inside me saying, fuck you, I won’t anymore. Now I’m off to rediscover what it means to be alive. Don’t need your fucking pennies to validate my existence. Good-bye. Sono andata (I’ve left). I’m fucking gone.