Somedays we feel like shit. In these days we feel like feeling half alive.
Somedays we feel like quitting the life we’ve been living. We feel like living the life we were told to.
Somedays we feel like getting up from the floor. Somedays we feel like sinking into it until there’s no light to see.
Somedays we feel so wrong - somedays we feel like junkies.
Somedays we feel so right - somedays we feel like junkies.
Somedays we feel like getting a junk, just to have an excuse for being so wrong.
In these days, we feel like coming out of the selfish, cunt junk habit we got ourselves into.
Somedays we feel we have no junk at all.
Somedays we live the most beautiful trips, when the cold night air suddenly heats up and we feel the love we were told to exist. Somedays the cold night air suddenly gets colder and we feel that love is just a utopia of someone who was feeling just like you.
Somedays… we count no days. Somedays there are no days to count.
agora me diz se eu não era uma criança de 13 anos bem estranha.
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário