29 April, 2005
It's this feeling of inability, this feeling that you're not doing your best, that you're compromising yourself. Toss that with apprehensiveness, open eyes and clenched fists. Mix in a pinch of words that you aren't really sure are there. It feels like I'm gaping in a world full of water, trying to breathe but not breathing because I know I can't, yet I want to feed my oxygen-starved lungs.
I feel. So damn much. But not enough to know what is it other people think of me. Why do I want to know?
I feel. So damn much. But not enough to know what is it other people think of me. Why do I want to know?
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