Sunday, 07.01.2007. 1817 hours.
Frustration. How does one describe it? You feel your chest grow tight, your throat constrict, you can't breathe, and your head starts to pound. And then you feel the tears come.
I don't cry much when I'm sad. It's as though sadness have to be held painfully inside. The fragility of that emotion cannot be expressed through tears. And so you hold it in, time after time again, until one day it all combusts. In the early hours of the morning. Always the early hours of the morning. Between dusk and dawn.
Wait. All my life I've been waiting. I don't know for what. And all my life I always seem to be waiting for people, or for something to happen. It sucks.
Frustration. How does one describe it? You feel your chest grow tight, your throat constrict, you can't breathe, and your head starts to pound. And then you feel the tears come.
I don't cry much when I'm sad. It's as though sadness have to be held painfully inside. The fragility of that emotion cannot be expressed through tears. And so you hold it in, time after time again, until one day it all combusts. In the early hours of the morning. Always the early hours of the morning. Between dusk and dawn.
Wait. All my life I've been waiting. I don't know for what. And all my life I always seem to be waiting for people, or for something to happen. It sucks.
1 comment:
carpe diem. Why wait?
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