…I knew that my chance of being okay has passed long time ago, hours ago, days, weeks, months ago.
…and I feel that words have lost their weight, I am seeing people writing just to fill the space. And it makes me feel bad and sometimes, it fills me with grief; Cause I’d rather not read at all than read what they speak!
There are two kinds of writers: those who write smart, and those who write. I, for myself, like the second kind.
Darkness, a never ending darkness; One, that captivates my sight whenever I open my eyes, always there by my side shrouding, touching, comforting me, making me feel safe even though I’m in a constant fear, a fear so great, so great that wont vanish, nor diminish whether I’m awake or asleep. A fear that would’ve…
We live in a time where people have misinterpreted the saying “Happiness is only real when shared.” that’s why we see every second of everyone’s life being shared online.
So I leave now, hoping to never meet you again, except maybe on the stars; With your body and your face and your eyes all painted and spread there waiting for me to come and grab you with my hands, and to hold you and to touch you and to squeeze you until… until, I…
I am going to be an idea of mine; My best idea.