"...spent years writing his own story.
Died not knowing the end"
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"...spent years writing his own story.
Died not knowing the end"
" A sad day"
I call it a regular day
Since very young age I was aware that sad days are every day
While happy days are like a delicious and rare dessert that sometimes you get a slice
And sad days are that dry bread we swallow every day.
When we break down the walls of our prison and run towards freedom, we are, in fact, going to a more spacious yard of a larger prison.
I don't hate myself like I used to do,
I just don't like myself yet…
"Silence is a painful way to say: - I gave up on you."
I have the average's syndrome. I am not good at anything just so so on several things.