beletwingwen

It is my time to run out the country. I feel the rush and the adrenaline while planning to be not here. Just by Baccalaureate and I am done. Nothing keeps me in here. Nothing. And nothing will keep me here. The runaway is like a dream, the most important thing in my schedule. G.

The stronger I get, the more hits I receive. Blow after blow. I think that this situation starts to be pointless in every sense. I want to go back to my past reality, when the problems where only like a mist hanging around me, not real shapes coming towards me with a speed of light. The blind spots, caused by looking in the sun to long. I cannot think about anything that goes throughout my life. This would make me depressed, angry, envying, wanting or even worse suicidal. I don't want that at all. I hope that manias won't get me, that my illness won't come back, that I will see my grandma in a future days, that my Bac will be okay, that my

Every moment which can be fulfilled with pain can be also full of new surprises. I found things in the night that I trully forgot about. I finally got the courage to write. Maybe it is not the thing I am good at, but I am really happy about. Strange thing, that you are so filled with bad memories and even more horryfying prospects not only for the few next days but maybe for years that it makes you a little more creative. The night is more beautiful, when nobody's around. It's 3.27 and I still don't want to go to sleep.