If anyone were to notice anything about me, I am simply someone who blurts out unnecessary things quite often. There isn't anything plausible about me, unless if you count all the misconduct of events, all the curse words, all the ridiculousness -- then probably I am plausible.
It's 2017. February is ending. Time is ticking. And I am not moving.
I am not moving at all. If one were to ask whether I am okay or not now, then honestly speaking, I am not. But then why do I even bother admitting that when in actuality it is merely my own fault? To be honest, I see no point in typing this out anyway; It's just a habit that I can't shake off -- maybe just not yet.
I am afraid of many things lately, and being forgotten is one of them. This fear is irrational, I know, but I can't shake it off. It's stuck. But then again, I can't seem to feel anything. I am still the same ol' me.
Deep inside it creeps.
It drags.
It screams.
It yells.
It blinds.
Deep inside it clutches.
Emptiness.
No comments:
Post a Comment