There is no room left for me to breath. Before I am completely awake, I can indulge in being somebody else. No one expect anything from me just yet. There is nothing to remember, so there are no burdens to carry. My fears don’t exists. Living feels so simple.
REALLY? HELL NO!
So many people around me expect from me. I can’t measure the weight of burden. My features do exists. Living is the most complicated I fo. The dead are still alive. Morning are sobering, to say the least.
But the truth is, I am just doing exactly what everyone else is doing – having nothing in my heart but being appreciated for lying and living. I am not even brave, it’s just too monotonous. Waking up, grooming myself for the world, a toy that just needs a twist to run.
Of course, I’m comfortably okay with the basic skills which I possess. I just wonder when people will understand that it’s okay to be okay. Everything that was, still is. So, weather I like it or not I pull myself together and I do it all again.