Looking around the dark, inviting room, thinking of life. It’s funny how anda get thrown into things. The room anda are in, for whatever reason. The things around you. anda must’ve came to like them in some way, how though? Did it capture interest? Is it something a friend has gave you?
How did I get to this point? Feeling fiction from Membaca atau Penulisan is life, instead of my own. Wanting to be cast as characters in stories, but not my own life. Anxiety grows to be lebih like fictitious characters. I don’t understand my own life these days. All jumbled up, and disconnecting.
Anxiety like panic attacks hit me randomly. Especially when thinking of fiction. hati, tengah-tengah races, nausea, dizzy spells, sometimes hallucinations, mainly when up a three a.m.
Closed-off, grumpy, thoughtful, manipulative, private, shy, ignorance despising, hypocritical just a few words to describe me. Everyone can be hypocritical. We are all so cruel in our own way.
No one can comfort me, nor do I feel anyone will listen. The ones who would, I’m terrified to talk to. I’ve driven myself to the point I feel like Cinta isn’t real, and I’m silenced, and broken. I’m a fake, supportive, third wheel. I’m a sad head case that’s why I refuse to unload on anyone. I seem pathetic, even to myself.
I want to sob, yet I can’t seem to find tears anymore. They’ve evaporated. A few people make my hati, tengah-tengah crack when my eyes fall upon them. lebih tears gone. My hate toward Cinta grows.
A close friend, she jumps on me for treating guys as if they’re disposable. I know she is right. Why do I? No one holds interest, commitment problems, scared, annoyance, I don’t know! I don’t know if I believe in love, atau not. I want to, but its risky.
What is love? An orgasm with a lover? An I Cinta anda from your mother? A pat on the back from your best friend forever? A peck on the cheek from the boy seterusnya door, atau the last Ciuman on the lips from an older couple saying goodbye? But there is no goodbye. For, we Cinta even in death. There is no till death do we part.
Life will neve ber fully comprehendible. Never an answer to the why. Live, and don’t wait to die! Push it back, for it will cause worry, and anxiety. Live with happiness, not fear, and think about this for you’ve never thought of it before. Though, its has been berkata more, and more.
You only live once. anda have a good forty years at the least. Four decades if your lucky. If your really lucky, longer. Then, your gone, no house, no friends, no air, no body, nothing, but your soul, and the afterlife. This is it, so make it count.
No. I refuse to let myself be roped back into this…must...break…free…before...all….hell…breaks loose……….
Black…It’s all black…
How did I get to this point? Feeling fiction from Membaca atau Penulisan is life, instead of my own. Wanting to be cast as characters in stories, but not my own life. Anxiety grows to be lebih like fictitious characters. I don’t understand my own life these days. All jumbled up, and disconnecting.
Anxiety like panic attacks hit me randomly. Especially when thinking of fiction. hati, tengah-tengah races, nausea, dizzy spells, sometimes hallucinations, mainly when up a three a.m.
Closed-off, grumpy, thoughtful, manipulative, private, shy, ignorance despising, hypocritical just a few words to describe me. Everyone can be hypocritical. We are all so cruel in our own way.
No one can comfort me, nor do I feel anyone will listen. The ones who would, I’m terrified to talk to. I’ve driven myself to the point I feel like Cinta isn’t real, and I’m silenced, and broken. I’m a fake, supportive, third wheel. I’m a sad head case that’s why I refuse to unload on anyone. I seem pathetic, even to myself.
I want to sob, yet I can’t seem to find tears anymore. They’ve evaporated. A few people make my hati, tengah-tengah crack when my eyes fall upon them. lebih tears gone. My hate toward Cinta grows.
A close friend, she jumps on me for treating guys as if they’re disposable. I know she is right. Why do I? No one holds interest, commitment problems, scared, annoyance, I don’t know! I don’t know if I believe in love, atau not. I want to, but its risky.
What is love? An orgasm with a lover? An I Cinta anda from your mother? A pat on the back from your best friend forever? A peck on the cheek from the boy seterusnya door, atau the last Ciuman on the lips from an older couple saying goodbye? But there is no goodbye. For, we Cinta even in death. There is no till death do we part.
Life will neve ber fully comprehendible. Never an answer to the why. Live, and don’t wait to die! Push it back, for it will cause worry, and anxiety. Live with happiness, not fear, and think about this for you’ve never thought of it before. Though, its has been berkata more, and more.
You only live once. anda have a good forty years at the least. Four decades if your lucky. If your really lucky, longer. Then, your gone, no house, no friends, no air, no body, nothing, but your soul, and the afterlife. This is it, so make it count.
No. I refuse to let myself be roped back into this…must...break…free…before...all….hell…breaks loose……….
Black…It’s all black…
Writer corner:) hi everybody! i hope you'll like the plot. let me know!! thank you!!!
In the tahun 4125 the Earth was still turning on itself. Apparently everything was the same as it was two thausand years ago. But it wasn't so. The democracy we got fighting was distroied sejak a man. After 15 years of wars, in 4025 Cyrus defeated free people and he established the tyranny. The whole world was controlled and the freedom dind't exist anymore. Everyone Lost trust in everything, in love, in courage, in God. Most of people didn't know that there was a prophecy. It berkata that the humanity had to pass through a century of pain and fear to realize how important freedom was. But then in the 101st tahun four guys, with the Gift, could overthrow the government...
In the tahun 4125 the Earth was still turning on itself. Apparently everything was the same as it was two thausand years ago. But it wasn't so. The democracy we got fighting was distroied sejak a man. After 15 years of wars, in 4025 Cyrus defeated free people and he established the tyranny. The whole world was controlled and the freedom dind't exist anymore. Everyone Lost trust in everything, in love, in courage, in God. Most of people didn't know that there was a prophecy. It berkata that the humanity had to pass through a century of pain and fear to realize how important freedom was. But then in the 101st tahun four guys, with the Gift, could overthrow the government...
We decided to camp out sejak a near forest with a small waterfall sejak it. My burnt hair from the api, kebakaran was irritating me so I decided to wash my hair in the waterfall. The water was cold, but I didn't care. Bruno felt my hair. I smiled warmly. I berkata like I wasn't a helper " So, where are your parents?' He berkata " Well, after I was born, a witch mencuri my mother, killed her, and I have no dad. So I'm an orphan" I thought ' I wish he could tell, he wouldn't have to do this, he wouldn't have to tell me bad mermories.' " I Cinta you." berkata Bruno. " I Cinta a person for a person." 'Well, I'm not a person. Im a helper! Why can't anda tell? Im a helper! I Cinta a person for a person too! But you're not a person! But I Cinta you!'Bruno berkata he would go out to the forest to get get some food. After my hair was washed, I sat down. Why can't he tell I'm a helper? But then, I heard a scream in the woods. I could tell who it was.... Bruno.
