Sleepless nights but the windy days have become full of awakenings. Agony clouds my body and brain as I continue to indulge in pleasures - so short lived - that they loose meaning as soon as they're stepped out of. Hardwork has been tiresome for a while now and I'm a puppet of the numb acts I preform, only to lengthen the numbness and get me through the night.
Running away from such a life seems to be the only plausible solution because who wouldn't? Who'd want to suffer every second in this tunnel visioned reality constrained as if by horse blinders - monotonously leading to nothing but doom; and that too envisioned and facilitated by none other than myself?
The grass is greener on the other side - I console my pessimistic existence often.
