it's maladjusted

Maybe, but just maybe it would be best for me not to write at all.
But for me, its impossible, for its the only way for me to express myself.
I believe that I could be able to sit here on the window sill and look out over the ocean for month, and month.
And I don't know where I'm going, our how I'm going to get there, but I know there's something out there.
Even for a simple and plain girl like me. I'm not sure, but one thing is certain.. staying here feels like the worst and blackest blasphemy, ever imagenable.
So terrified, and the soul, so hollow.
I feel pent, locked.
It feels vacantly, sorely, maladjusted.

Spring has come, and I got nothing.
I don't feel satisfied and I dont like the way things are and how it's come to be this way.

All I know is that I am very greatful for those who stood beside me in times of trouble, in times of disbelief.
I love you

I know that I actually love my life, but sometimes, in times like this, I doubt it myself.
I doubt myself, I doubt my abilites and occasionally, I doubt mankind.
Experience is the only thing I really don't lack, besides my confidence in others.
Because I believe in humans, I'm gullible, naive.
And that's one of the things, that usually pulls me down.

"just get back up when it knocks you down"


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