Do I hate you? or I just hate that I am not liking you enough? Well what’s the difference? My heart is beating. I am alive. But am I really?
My thoughts have destroyed me more than blades ever could. Sometimes it’s heavy… like you’re carrying an elephant. Sometimes it’s dark… you wonder if you’ll ever see light. Sometimes it’s bleak… you wonder if you’ll make it through. And some days there are no words to describe it. I go to sleep hoping that for a moment I might find peace. But, they come in my nightmares. I can’t find peace even in my own sleep. But I know I can’t just die. Dying is not romantic, and death is not a game which will soon be over… Death is not anything… death is not… It’s the absence of presence, nothing more… the endless time of never coming back… a gap you can’t see, and when the wind blows through it, it makes not sound… OH! And I know this?
C’mon cheer up girl! Live your life! Have some fun. You’re so young. Honey, leave me alone? please? You can’t think straight when you have so much in your mind. You just want to curl up and do the only thing that you’re best at doing. i.e; crying yourself to the point where your heart aches and your eyes dries. Does this mean I am sad? Oh I don’t really know. I am not sad. I am not happy either. But I know what I want. Maybe.. I prefer the mysteries of death over the wonders of life?