No title comes to mind

This is a picture of a tree in the cold, in the light. This is a picture of me, angry and cold and intricate. This is me, sitting in my car after midnight, on my way back from work - I don't work shifts! - listening to the pure sounds of music pouring out in crystal clear harmonies and ready to cry. I am sick and tired of being invited to talk and never being quite heard. I am sick and tired of friendly smiles when I know it well these people have other little or larger things on their little or larger minds. Pay attention, stop being the center of the universe. After all, you asked me what I think. If is not important to you why the fuck ask in the first place?