There are too many things I am capable of doing, But I really cant seem to get any done, I do not even try, I believe I have depression, not a severe case, but at least I know I took some of the genes ( unfortunately ) from my father who seems to have it to a very complicated and severe case, I don’t know if this is the crisis of 20’s, or its only something I suffer from, I cant seem to find a path, its all blurry and dark, I am always confused and indecisive whether I want this or I don’t. I wake up everyday feeling useless, my mind is always a blank, I sip my morning coffee and think about the outfit of the day for work, nothing interesting or exciting, just boring routine every single day, and each time I want to quit smoking I find myself more indulged into the idea of dying early, I already have nothing and no one to cling on, I have a gift I do not use, or to be more precise I am not inspired enough to use it. I am out of ideas, and there is where I hit rock bottom. I am curren...
Its no harm, trust me I wish I can spill my ink inside your cold and hot heart, you had got me lost into a maze of thoughts that I cant myself escape from, my head gets easily tipsy; drunken on the though of you, my blood rushes through my veins and blossoms on my white cheeks flushing like roses, My coffee tastes nothing but your bitter-sweet pheromones. I longed to see the drunken texts from you a little bit more of a longed conversation struck between us , your sober words you speak drunkenly, and if you've ever been high, I will await those words to be spilled out of your bloody lips, your wicked cheeky game you play, I want to know it all. I just want you to tell me all of this.” — Eva .S
“And I walked to the balcony door as I was sipping the coffee of my favourite mug, I got out and I looked around me, only thoughts of growing older and blinder got crowded inside my head. When did we become so self centred that we forgot the beauty of the blue skies painted with a blush of white clouds, when did we become so numb that we cant feel the warmth of the sun on our skin, when did we become so shallow that we never heard the hollow of the falling leaves hitting the mist-ful ground, the beauty and the wisdom behind those falling leaves. Maybe that's another part of growing up, I never saw it as growing up cause as we grow older we become more numb, weaker in senses, shallow at mind and heart. ” — Eva Al-Sunna’
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