drawing sticks

It’s amazing how we draw the shortest out of all sticks at times.

and it’s unsurprising to note how close I have become to losing it recently. I constantly feel that I’m spiraling out of control, into this deep abyss of nothingness. like a piece of rubber band which is tied too tightly and snapping at a gentle gust of wind or something.

Actually it’s not entirely true. I know I am strong that all of that shit I would like to sprout but sometimes it’s so damm tiring that I’m seeing stars and hallucinating things. where is this going, and where is it ending or when is the next pause coming?

questions, questions but no answers.

sometimes I shoulder on with the strength your tiny words bring me.I’m not sure how long can it lasts, or how tough can the going gets.