I get waves of loneliness, the kind so repressed that showing tears feel like sandpaper to the heart.

This probably comes from indifference to the world, but I think people don't know what that feels like. They have settled for gravel, the conventional means of filling the potholes of the hearts. 

I cry because I'm unconventional. After all, security, meaning, and gratification mean so much to me. 

Popular posts from this blog

The Narcissist

The possible idea that I'm never to have ambition. 

When someone tells you to open the door.

Why does this bother you?

Chinook pushing you away from where I want you to be.

My life in some attempt of summation.

Back to Top