endless lit streets and paper cranes

Friday, December 29, 2006;

if only exhaustion was limited to a physical thing.

i dread rising. i dont like fighting a battle im not confident of winning. and moreover, its just so tiring.

and the bullet wounds and stabs along the way dont really help much either.


-edit

the rain has stopped, and now all i hear is the loud splattering sound the raindrops make as they smash onto the pavement.

sometimes, i wish i could do the same.

still, like the rain, it ends and the sun will shine again.

im waiting for the sun.


i hate the way im feeling. i wish everyone i cared about either a) stop pushing me away or b) backstabbing me.

grind a boulder; it'll eventually turn to dust.

-mon@1:23 AM