Você tem medo
"I knew Eric back when the Pokeman wave came in. He was hanging ten like a pro."
People keep coming into my room. They mess everything up. Not to say it wasn't a mess before. They re-order the disorder and it irks me. I'm not one to get upset, I'm not going to. No one cares. They're not going to stop and say, "Oh, I'm so sorry." They're all insensitivity in a vacuum.
It's this session of my life that I like the least. When I anticipate the good that will be and neglect the good that may be right now. Not that I ignore the bad. I prefer what has meaning.
Inside, I want to cry. But I've buried the reason/s so deep I can't seem to find a surface.
Why can't what I do right now not affect the past? Like an essay, can't I just edit the rough draft?
I wonder if my life is worth publishing.
People keep coming into my room. They mess everything up. Not to say it wasn't a mess before. They re-order the disorder and it irks me. I'm not one to get upset, I'm not going to. No one cares. They're not going to stop and say, "Oh, I'm so sorry." They're all insensitivity in a vacuum.
It's this session of my life that I like the least. When I anticipate the good that will be and neglect the good that may be right now. Not that I ignore the bad. I prefer what has meaning.
Inside, I want to cry. But I've buried the reason/s so deep I can't seem to find a surface.
Why can't what I do right now not affect the past? Like an essay, can't I just edit the rough draft?
I wonder if my life is worth publishing.