depression.
Can't concentrate on the positive stuff,
it's all about this creepy mood,
when I can't see a thing with those eyes, blinded by the growing
depression
and when you try to blink you stuck with a flow of brand new tears.
and it's all about the stupid materials
I cant resist.
Such depression
which makes this apathy when the " 'gonna be alright" thing comes.
In a way it seems as if I had given up so soon without searching other options.
Their apathy might lead us the wrong way,
and they keep doing it.
And again, again with those words,
which cannot describe what soul shouts,
what soul requires.
Such wills perhaps won't make the wanted attachment.
I'm searching everywhere for those little signs.
Musn't show her how frustrated I am,
every time she mentions that.
I've never been a fond of vacations,
at least I know why.
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