Last night I wrote the following lines:
You asked me why I cried in the night.
I told you how I dreamed I died.
You nodded and had no clue,
That I cried 'cause my dream was not true!
Why do I always fall so fast? Just when I n come a long way on the mountain top bi and believe that everything is fine, something happens that pulls me down so much that I would just like to cease to exist.
Then I like to sleep. I lie in bed and imagine what it would be to sleep forever .
But I wake up again. Every damn day. Because I still think that one day it will be better when I work because I work on it must .
whenever I flirt with the gossip, but I do not think I could lay hands on me. I can not imagine me . I can find some comfort in it.
But it really do? It's a film stays in my head, my little morbid retreat.
I am condemned to live to someone or something stops it for me.
I am Sisyphus who was cursed to forever having to roll the stone up a hill and then watch as the crap rolls down again.
I keep on me rappel and work and work and then - bang, everything goes back to Bach downhill.
But I have to get the stone back up. I can not help it. This is my punishment even if I do not know why.
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