Bra1n-w@shed

i believe in my superior age i should be feeling freedom. a moment where i could lurk beneath the crushed lifestyle of the city. but instead i found myself in a dump of my own drama. i just can’t believe i’m a part of it now. sometimes demolition of suffer is something need more than just a struggle. i wake up, go to work, hanging out and go to bed. life is just a piece of uncarved rock for me. i’m waiting for a time where i’m enjoying my youth. spending more time with myself in that golden days. i’m confronting the dependency inside of me. an illusive need of attention and being in control. it’s eating me inside out. too many words and so little action in the complementary of my inner satisfaction. struggle with the same time enjoying the pain i’m in is something so sick to be in. the joy of sorrow is in a different level now, a place to strange to talk or live about. always asking the same question of love as if something i couldn’t live without. the ground beneath me is shaking the way i’m walking. i have to release myself from this situation. a war with myself.