I usually don't write when I'm feeling too low. The outcome is a dark, depressive, everything seems pointless...
I do run, though.
I run even during those days, when the loneliness and the lack of hope rush in like huge soundless waves.
A knife in the guts, the hangman's knot...
I keep running...
Then, the other days come, when you're up on a mountain, in a forest just ten minutes outside the scorching city, you look at it from above, and it looks immense, and the view of the sea is comforting your soul and the cool breeze clears your mind and this is life.
Days are magical
when we can laugh without fear
The city is magical
when we kiss in the park without fear.
Keep running, keep running...
No comments:
Post a Comment