I used to climb on window pipes.
Look through the neighbour's side, Reach around trying to climb high. I wanted to go into the dark skies Find the real paradise. And I am still climbing the staircase where the happiness begins but the steps are never ending my legs are forever bending the journey, like any, is tiring.
shouldn't be this complicated why it feels like all of us are in a race against each other? who has the fancier job who has the more sophisticated house how far is the finish line?
Embarrassment.. Disappointment.. That's how I describe myself. That's me. That's really me.
What is the deal with boundaries
When it comes to the things we love, Why is it inexhaustible and all-consuming- how do we make it stop?
Do you have trouble setting boundaries with those you love because you are scared of upsetting them?
it's not tiring being happy
it's ******* tiring not being sad and bothered
I am a cold, crisp autumn field. I am a plush scarf in the breeze, I am omnipresent, and yet never near. I am a crackling fire in a winter freeze. I am crumbling, cold, and free. I am encumbered by the slush and snow. I am waiting toe-to-toe. You have seen me, slouched, burdened, fatigued by the stress of the day, waiting in the back of the bus bay. I am all, and I am more.
Self-loathing is tiring
But god, it’s inspiring Anyone would be lying To claim they weren’t trying To work day by day To mend their mistakes To reshape their ways The ill strive for change The strive to improve Or perhaps just to prove The pain is the truth The weaknesses too With all the crying The bleeding, the fighting Self-loathing is tiring But god, it’s inspiring
My recovery was like climbing a mountain
Hard Tiring But so worth it Then I lost my footing And fell Now I'm laying at the bottom All beaten up and broken Too hurt and tired to start again