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72 · Feb 7
Regrets.
1159 Feb 7
I could not stand it, being in this rut.
I want to leave, I want to escape.
I feel so trapped, I feel so lost.
Regrets are so loud, I could not hear my own voice.
I want to rest in peace just to silence the noise,
but I know taking myself to the next life would bring another disappointment.
And I am afraid of being a failure once more.
I do not wish to be.
[from my depression diary]
57 · Feb 3
When passsion is dead
1159 Feb 3
The passion has long been dead
between the both of us.
It had a cold distance;
a lackluster love,
that of which we are in war
endlessly stabbing and reviving each other.
I guess the only feelings left between us is the fear of being lonely.
words i created when i was young

— The End —