seen from Israel
seen from France
seen from Netherlands
seen from Brazil
seen from Netherlands
seen from India
seen from China
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from Pakistan
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Denmark
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from United States
The Story...
The Story…
I knew a boy,
little scared and little weird.
he knew a girl
little sad and little scared.
they sat together, wrote together
songs of distant past.
and that’s the story of …
he loved flowers
she loved stars
he would weave her hair
while she would fight the ants.
and that’s the story of….
she would put stones in her pocket
he would put buttons on dresses
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It's strange, how I have changed. Inside, mostly. I'm looking at myself and I can't see what I used to see. If I am honest, I want to be able to see the past. So badly. Because I'm not able see the future. I'm trying, but something keeps me from moving on. It's like there is a crack and I can't figure out where exactly it is, and therefore can't try and fix it. I need to find it or it will split open further... I'm so afraid of that.
It's now my biggest enemy, the thing that keeps me down most, the barrier I need to jump but am afraid of. I am my own monster I need to fight...who needs other hindrances if you yourself are what's in your way.
It's pathetic, really. There are people who would do so much better standing in my place. I feel I'm not suited for my own life. Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic...
Where is the damn crack?
