she woke up one morning to realize that nothing's going to be able to change things. that the damage done is irreparable and all there is left to do is to move. what if she moves on only to realize that everything is really the same thing in a different order and everything before was all she ever wanted?
the weekend is here. no paper storm. just a slight longing at the back of the head. a vague grey feeling.
she woke up one morning to realize that the small things can be done but it will be too late. there is only the stubborn headstrongness that keeps knocking. she must try but is it worth trying?
i'm just a little tired.
what is love? what is this thing called love? why does it have to be so hard? why does it become hard even when it was easy?
Posted by
Marilyn
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