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
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