I enjoy peace and solitude although it feels like life is deserting me.
It is a satisfying melancholy that creeps in every vein and gives me beam for how life makes me look stupid.
I wish I could pull myself away from everything. This is not depression per se but thinking about it depresses me the most. I wanted to do what is right but doing the opposite is what really pleases me and I'd like to let myself succumb into subtleness of everything.
I never wanted to complicate life but it seems that life has its own ways of teaching me the hardest way, of kicking my ass off and juggling things over my head just to give me headaches in every waking state of my life.
Guess, it's par of the course! Well, I am not reluctant, in fact, I ensconce myself in this very brash predicament. Because after all, I've got no choice.
