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You can feel the darkness that screw your heart.. You can feel your hair whirling with the dust above your eyes.. You are shattering to the sight of your reflecting face into the mirror.. You are freezing.. Your eyes take you far.. Far away from here.. Where the winds blow And the waves go here and there and then carry you to the abyss.. The waves in her way back moan and cry and moan and sob for your fate and your faith once lost.. Your despair grows and grows till finds no limits and then suddenly stops.. Leaving you wonder and wonder aimlessly and then continues to grow deeper and deeper.. You eyes have no colors even if they are blue or green.. They seem to be empty and lifeless in a way that disgusts you I mean “you” the other self in me.. Who is the me? Or who am I? I hesitate between a pack of cigarettes in my hand and a broken glass of wine under my feet to interrupt my staring through the black window in my room.. It is all black basically and I don’t care much about the colors because I can’t really see any.. I turn on the T.V and notice that it is all bloody chains of everyday life that freak me out.. I turn it off finally and sit for awhile trying to remember my inability to resist facts and face problems that were disturbing me for ages.. And then I let it fall as I always do.. It makes me go crazier when I see that I’m powerless and tired of getting sick of it.. Tired of doing what they told me to do: how to behave, walk, wear eat what to say and what is forbidden to say and some other things.. Am I living a fake life? Is this life? Am I really living? Why am I crying when it is useless? Why am I not able to pretend to be happy? Am I too pessimistic? I don’t have any inspiration because I’m nothing.. I’m nothing while my surroundings live life to the full.. When I become heartless and undesirable.. I’m nothing when I can hardly read something.. When my friends come first.. When I have no time for myself if I still call it “myself”..
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