I think I am at the stage where I don't really give a shit about what's happening around me.
I'm not saying that I have tons of money to ditch work and whatnot — heck, I'm laden with debts that even breathing feels like a labor.
I can't say that I am depressed, and I can't say that I am not.
It's just... life feels static and running at 200 miles an hour at the same time.
Living feels like being in a void. In a limbo. In a constant loop of uncertainty.
At times, I feel like crying. And most of the time, I struggle to find a single reason to cry.
After all, you can't just cry, can you?

There's a deep wanting to let go. To blow off steam.
But if I can't tell what's the pressure that's been brewing inside me, how could I vent it off?
I just don't understand.
Maybe it's the loneliness.
Maybe age is starting to knock some sense into my head.
I just don't have the answers.

And if you may excuse me, I have some weeping to do.
Goodbye.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

He Did Not Come

He did not come yesterday, and there were me and my agony I made no calls, to him who happened to have no balls. And I asked a friend, he worked so late, trying to toss the fate I did not care, I am still breathing with blood streams down my veins. He comes today, with a weary look on his face, For me, in his face, I find my solace, For him, I find no one who can be replaced, I love him a lot, no man can erase To you Mr. R. XOXO ZA
Read more

Almost

Image
Almost. It slips off the tongue like a sigh, a word so small it shouldn't hold so much weight. But it does. It sits heavy in my chest, a stone lodged in the place where dreams used to bloom. I built my life on almosts, sturdy little houses made of "what ifs" and "maybes." Almost graduated top of my class, almost married the man who swore he'd love me forever, almost held a child in my arms. Each one a promise whispered on the wind, then snatched away like a cruel game. And the worst part? The worst part is how they steal your future. You get so caught up in the almosts, the shimmering mirages of what could have been, that you forget how to live in the present. You become a ghost in your own life, watching as real happiness dances past, just out of reach. Perhaps, almost is the saddest word there is.
Read more