10 septembre 2008


The same thing happening, all over again, never really stopped. What's wrong? If anybody knew, it would be much easier. But nobody knows, I don't know. It's something you didn't expect, something that strikes you and poison your life. You feel helpless, so helpless, because you don't know why. Is that him, is that you? Maybe both. You feel it's growing inside of you, everyday it becomes stronger and stronger and you know you won't escape it. There's no escape to that kind of things. You have to deal with it one day anyway. But the problem is, you don't know how to do that, how to find the strenght in yourself to fight it. The more you think about it, the less you feel you deserve it. So you walk, instead of fighting this, you walk, to think. And when you finally manage to think, it's worse. You'd like to be better than this, but you don't know if you still can. That's horrible.


Posté par pulse à 23:10 - Commentaires [2] - Permalien [#]

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  • Désespérant...

    Alors déjà que tu écris magnifiquement bien en français, maintenant tu te mets à l'anglais..
    Mais laisses-en un peu pour les autres !!

    Posté par meuganeuh, 13 septembre 2008 à 11:40 | | Répondre
  • It is the truth

    Dis donc, toi qui étais une quiche avec Loic, tu t'es bien amélioré !! GREAT, WONDERFULLL

    Posté par Apostrophe, 20 septembre 2008 à 20:23 | | Répondre
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