When I start to think about it, my whole world blows away. My self care, my plans, my (stupid) desires seems like nothing, under these circumstances; they all disapear. I didn't want to worry that much, 'cause it really makes no difference for me; I never change!
No, It's not easy. It's not easy. It's not fucking e-a-s-y!
While it stays here, it chews me, eats me, devoures me, destroys me! But this pieces of me are avaiable, to tell you how I feel. As it goes, I come back. As I come back, it has already gone, so I can do nothing but pray for it to take long to be here again.
Why dreams are always so distant from reality, while nightmares seems just too near to be untrue?
