Almost we all write, somehow.
Some may write in their diaries then tend to hide them under their bed, Some may write in social media thinking that the people there would help but they end up judging, Some may write randomly in the street walls because they've been holding out for so long and some just don't.
Those who don't write, who don't sing or draw or whatever the hell that may heal something within them, believe me when i say that they die gradually everyday.
It's when they keep staring at that ceiling desperately and numbly with no single hope for something to mend their brokenness. It's when they keep passing by the roads hopelessly and the single hope they've is to be hit completely by a car.
YOU ARE READING
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RandomIt was all about surviving. Notes: -Not all of the written thoughts relates to my personal life. I may just felt in need to write such a thing, but yeah, they all end up leading to the same way. -One of the thoughts was deleted, it was too harsh to...
