Status: I won't be writing much because this is what I write when I feel REALLY depressed.
The Woes of an Unkempt Bed
The Fear
I’m not going to drown in the saline of my tears anymore. I can’t take it any longer. Every look I receive I fear to be my last; it’s a constant torture from which I have no release. Captivity suits me horrendously, even more so than one can expect. I’m a slave to passion, all I want to do is roam whilst in charge of my own free spirit, and I’m unable under their watchful hard eyes. This is not freedom.
If I have to drown in the saline of the ocean to find freedom once again, so be it.
If I have to drown in the saline of the ocean to find freedom once again, so be it.