I've decided to save this day. I still have 33
minutes 'till that time is out and I've wasted just another one.
I've came to a
conclusion that if I was supposed to hibernate my life away, I would’ve been
born into Ursidae family and not into Hominidae one. Lately all I
am doing is wishing for things to be different. And I should’ve known better.
And I do know it logically. And what do I have from knowing it? Nothing. I’m
wasting my life away. And knowing that is just making me sink even deeper. It’s
not helping me to find my footing and go and breathe with my full lung capacity.
It’s shrinking me. My lungs have shrunk and my muscle tissue is trying
desperately to hold onto my bones.
The idea of me wasting my life is leaving me
petrified. It’s tying chains over my legs and it’s anchoring me to my bed. I
swear, I can’t breathe like I used to. But I can write. That I can do. So that
is what I am going to do. Until this chains dissolve into thin air; back to
where they’ve came from. Maybe I’m crazy, but I could swear that my breathing
was just a little lighter for a second there.
"... get out of your dream world and develop a backbone, not a wishbone." - John Tapene |
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