Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Uncanny of you.

My room isn't clean. I haven't brushed my teeth. I'm tired. I'm weary. I wish I didn't have to hear the lies anymore. I wish I was stronger than this. I wish more people understood that they make me tired. And it's nothing personal. I promise. But then I try to imagine myself out of this life and into another, butIcan't. I don't know what I want. Because if everything worked perfectly all the time, I wouldn't know what I do. So then I can only wish for the little things. For example, I wish my knee could just be healed all the way. Right now. Just. Goodnight.