Washing Cars.

I know now what I am and what I'm suposed to be. I am strong not weak, I am confident not confused, appreaciating life not wasting it.

But no, not really. I'm just wating for the man to come, he's gonna be wearing a slick suit and a white smile. He's gonna shake my hand and say: "Good on ya mate, but now it's time for you to fuck off to where ever the fuck you came from..." And I'll be like: "You reckon!?"