So they say I'm crazy
Ah, work let met down tonight. So.. I worked this morning, an extra hour too. They still could've called me in, saved me from my friday night. I guess twice in one week is a bit excessive. Now I feel sick and it's to the point where I don't want to see what's around me, I don't like this atmosphere, get rid of it already. But there's nothing to ward it off. Turning on the fan, opening a window, cracking the door open, pretty perfumeries won't hide it, nothing can shake this feeling of filth. It's nothing inside me that's filthy. I'm ok with myself for the time being. There's a pollution choking my soul if I ever had one.
Work is good. I care not if I won't become a rich kid. That doesn't matter. Why should it? I stopped caring about the silly critiques coming from my family. I've regained my strength to sit, listen, and smile with humility again.
It feels like drops of lead dancing in my throat. I cough and cough. But nothing comes up. It's this need of escape that is killing me. Being still when all is in motion, moving when everything stand stills. It's the only way I know to observe.
There are still things I'll never admit.. I just haven't the words for them.
Work is good. I care not if I won't become a rich kid. That doesn't matter. Why should it? I stopped caring about the silly critiques coming from my family. I've regained my strength to sit, listen, and smile with humility again.
It feels like drops of lead dancing in my throat. I cough and cough. But nothing comes up. It's this need of escape that is killing me. Being still when all is in motion, moving when everything stand stills. It's the only way I know to observe.
There are still things I'll never admit.. I just haven't the words for them.