We slept the entire day. I woke up almost every hour feeling the guilt and fear of rest which made me even more tired than ever. I miss the feeling of peace because I hate this anger, this impatience and distance between myself and the world. I'm awaiting the day we flee so I can stop telling you 'next week.' Sometimes words of comfort makes me feel more pathetic than the feeling itself. Are we just getting by? We ought to be spectacular, I know we are much better than this. I really like your skin.

Ever had this feeling of unsettlement that you try your darnest to contain but its of no use as it surpasses your limits to overflow? Just like blood released from a broken wound. I'm afraid of the things I can't control. I don't think a lot but my thoughts kill me sometimes. I hate that the people I love feel pain, and the worst part is watching it happen over and over again.

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